Dreamers
by sleep-away
Summary: After the war Harry has started to live his life again - but why is Malfoy appearing to his doorstep? Will Harry help him? Story about friendship and beyond.
1. The doorstep

A/N: My first attempt, so be gentle. Also notice, English is not my mother tongue.

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, they belong to J. K. Rowling - what a marvelous woman she is. I'm keeping this story pretty clean, because - well - this is my first one. So things (pairings) are pretty much like the author wanted them to be.

Feedback is great and much appreciated. Enjoy!

* * *

"Shit!"

Harry licked his burned finger and tried to control the fire he had just made. His mind had wondered off for a split second and he'd almost burned his rug too.

It was a freezing night, so he finally had some use for the fireplace in his new apartment.

Well, it wasn't exactly a new apartment, he had moved in three months ago and he still kept finding unopened boxes. Nice, open place, pretty close to Diagon Alley. Of course he had been avoiding his neighbors as well as possible ever since he had moved in, trying to avert all unnecessary attention. Easier said than done indeed, there had been quite a lot of welcoming gifts, from wizards and witches, as well as from oblivious Muggles. Most of them were giving the gifts (consisting of different kinds of pastries and cookies, giving Harry the freedom to not to have to go shopping for food for a while) from the cheer pleasure of welcoming a new neighbor to the hood, but as the word spread around, more people (from the neighborhood or not) kept showing up behind his door. The rush was luckily not the most permanent one, it had died quite soon after Harry had fretfully stated to the press that he was looking forward to the opportunity to live his life undisturbed, and to keep his personal prospect of life, in fact, personal.

The apartment itself had given him pretty much headache too, since he had, unaware of the danger, promised Hermione, Ginny and Mrs Weasley to re-decorate it. It really is unnecessary to say that there had been no understanding between those three at all. So for couple of weeks, he and Ron had been killing time wondering through the shops at Diagon Alley, meeting some of their friends from Hogwarts, and pretty much just hanging around while trying to stay out of the way.

After a great amount tears and blood had been shed, and quite a lot of money and time spent, Harry was able to actually start his life in his new apartment. He was happy how it turned out, and extremely relieved that the result wasn't girly at all, like Ron and Seamus had been frightening him about. Actually, the place was very tasteful and cosy, but nonetheless Harry knew it would take a lot of time to make the place feel like...home. It would be really hard to accomplish, Harry hadn't actually ever had a real home, the kind of he could remember. Hogwarts had been a home him, of course, but now he had a place of his own. He could actually start his life, decide how it would turn out, and - for once - really enjoy it.

After Harry had made sure the fire wouldn't cause any damage to his living room, he sat on the brown couch, opened the Daily Prophet and eyed it for the thousand time that day - he had been given the mission of trying to find this ex-Death Eater who had had a messy escape during an attempted arrest, and who was now completely lost. It was part of his education of becoming an Auror. Usually they used fictional examples for the training, but this time they exploited the case in question. Harry didn't really think there would be anything that could be considered as useful in the paper, not a clear sign of the criminal, but sometimes reading the paper and its irrelevant cases gave him new ideas which helped him to think.

After the war, Ministry had been forced to change it's ways, as was the Daily Prophet. Honestly, it was a huge relieve.

Soon Harry had to admit that there were no clues of the criminal's whereabouts, and he was clearly too tired to think, so he threw the paper towards the wastebasket - and missing it poorly. Harry knew he had promised to go out with his friends again in the evening, but he was way too exhausted. All he could do, or even think of doing, was to lie on the couch (it was very soft, probably Hermione's choice) and to close his eyes for a moment. He decided to at least take a nap, hoping he'd feel better after it. Which he doubted.

Hours later, something woke Harry up. He found himself in a very uncomfortable position and groaned in frustration. He rolled over, found a perfect spot on the couch, and was dying to fall asleep again. The room was darker, the comfortable fire had died already, and one couldn't really see nothing but darkness through the windows. It seemed like Harry's nap had been longer than suspected, and the thought made him sigh. Then there was a knock on the door. Harry tried to ignore it, burying himself deeper into the couch. Seconds later, another knock. He threw his pillow towards the door and even without looking he knew it had badly missed its target, and found that it wasn't that brilliant idea anyway - now there was no support to his head.

And there was yet another knock on the door. Louder this time.

Harry groaned again as he crankily stood up and tried to find his way to the door, as well as trying to make up an excuse for Ron so he wouldn't have to go out with him. Well, he probably looked ill anyway, with his hair up and all. He yanked the door open and made an angry face to the fading feeling of the warm couch. After the shivers caused by the cold winter air had faded, he took in the weird sight in front of him. He had to blink couple of times.

Draco Malfoy was standing on Harry's doorstep.

Well, for starters, the man didn't look like Malfoy at all. But Harry supposed it had to be - with his short blond hair, pointy face, dark clothes and that familiar suspicious look in those gray eyes. But there was something wrong about the man standing in front of Harry. Dark circles under his eyes, his face even paler than naturally, hair (which looked almost gray now) very messy - looking nothing as it used to, those expensive clothes wrinkled and dusty. Well, when Harry looked back, he realized that Malfoy had had this look during their sixth year in Hogwarts, too. But Malfoy also looked like this time he had done nothing to hide his wrecked look.

After this short analyzing (which had gotten him nowhere) Harry noticed the modest luggage Malfoy had behind him. Did he try to hide it? Malfoy had a small frown on his face, looking a bit scared, not meeting Harry's eyes. The man looked like he'd wanted to be anywhere else. Harry wasn't really jumping up and down in excitement either.

Malfoy kept silent.

Harry was really getting creeped out.

He couldn't help eying around the corner.

_No, not an ambush._

At least he hoped so.

"Umh," Harry broke the silence. Was he still asleep? "_Malfoy?_"

Malfoy suddenly looked like running away.

_What a nightmare._

"Potter," Malfoy said roughly with a nod.

"Umh," Harry had no clue what to say.

"Oh, yeah, umh, can I come in?"

"I'm...not sure. Why, exactly?" Harry rubbed his head a bit, trying to figure out if it all should somehow make sense to him.

Malfoy didn't look happy with Harry's answer. "Well, actually, I came to ask you a favour."

All Harry could do was to lift his eyebrows. What was going on? Another glance around the yard.

"Umh, yeah, I really need a place to stay, so..."

"And _I_ was the first one that popped in to your head?" Harry couldn't help himself. His eyebrows were meeting his hairline.

"NO, nothing like that," Malfoy rushed, "first I thought about Blaise - you know, being my...best friend and all - but he has all these other things on his mind, so I didn't actually want to...bother him...any more than necessary. And it wouldn't have been the greatest decision in my situation anyway. I really couldn't deal with Pansy either so I started to think about people who aren't so...close to me. Weasel - of course - would hex me to China or something...or if he wouldn't be so bad at Transfiguration, he'd probably turn me into a ferret." the blond gave an awkward laugh.

"_What?_"

"Shut it, Potter, I'm trying to explain myself."

"I wish you would," Harry muttered. What a start.

"Anyway, Granger would be all too nosy about my business, and would try to help me tie my shoes and all, so that didn't sound so great either. And then I thought about you, being the good samaritan that you are. I knew you wouldn't ask me any unnecessary questions or anything, and...well, I thought I'd give it a try...so here I am." Malfoy looked hopeful. And desperate.

Silence. Harry didn't actually know what to say, nothing made sense, "So here you are."

Another cold breeze was blowing in the air and both of them shivered.

"Hex me if you like, but at least let me in for a second, I'm really freezing my ass out here. And it was pretty hard to find the house anyway" Draco muttered. He was shivering and getting angry with himself.

Harry kept silent, but decided to just move aside and let the blond in. Malfoy seemed genuinely surprised by this. _No hexing. Definitely a good sign._

Malfoy entered the house awkwardly. Harry couldn't help taking a last look around the neighborhood before closing the door. Nothing suspicious. Well, at least nothing more suspicious than Draco Malfoy appearing to his doorstep. _A nightmare indeed._

Harry noticed that the blond wasn't really feeling comfortable; he was standing awkwardly in the living room, hands in his pockets, still shivering. Harry couldn't really blame him.

"Make yourself at home," Harry said quietly, nodding towards the coat rack, "Umh, I suppose you're a coffee drinker?"

"Yeah, sure," Malfoy nodded without thinking too much and took off his coat, revealing a typical black shirt.

Harry took the chance to go to the kitchen to make the coffee. _This is just great._ Everything was kind of a blur, nothing actually made sense. He even tried to find something to eat - biscuits maybe - Malfoy looked pretty hungry. _Why do I even care?_

Draco followed Potter to the kitchen slowly, thinking how stupid idea it had been. On the other hand, Potter hadn't chased him away. _When have I become such a coward anyway? Better if I'd just get this over with_. He slowly sat on a chair, feeling a bit dizzy since he hadn't eaten properly in days. He was barely breathing, looking anywhere else but to those green eyes, seriously hoping the chair he was sitting on would swallow him whole. Draco wasn't really in the mood for coffee, but he was afraid he would fall asleep in the middle of the conversation. He'd better take the coffee.

Harry also was facing away, trying to find something to do besides looking at the person sitting in his goddamn kitchen. He wasn't actually regretting letting the man in, but he kept hoping he'd find some sense out of the blonde.

Soon Harry gave up and turned to Malfoy, leaning against the counter. _Deep breath now, keep the wand near._

"So," he started. "would you dare to explain?"

Malfoy took a deep breath.

"Look, I just need a place to stay," Malfoy muttered tiredly, rubbing his temple with his long fingers.

"What, the mansion not good enough for you?" Harry muttered before he could stop himself. He knew he shouldn't be so foul, of course he shouldn't, but he really had every reason to be suspicious.

Malfoy sighed in his chair and unwillingly met Harry's eyes, looking a bit hurt.

"Problems with the family," the blond eventually admitted.

Harry blinked in confusion. "Really?"

"_Yes Potter_, I'm a bloody human being, even I have personal issues," Malfoy snapped, getting cross.

Harry felt awkward so he didn't say anything. For a moment, Malfoy looked like he'd storm out, but he obviously forced himself to stay still.

"Anyway, I didn't come here for sympathy, I just need a shelter for a while," Draco felt like he had done a great mistake going there. "and if you're not going to let me stay, I'd be better off."

Harry nodded slowly and stared at the blond for a long time, trying to read him. Malfoy might have lost his clever, even ominous appearance, but there still was the familiar sharp glint in his grey eyes. And he clearly was trying to keep Harry out of his head. Wondering what had eventually chased the man there, Harry turned back to the coffee. He took his time filling two mugs with the liquid, and then put them on the table. He sat down across from Malfoy, keeping silent for some time.

"So, how long do you need to stay?"


	2. The great feeling

Draco woke up feeling warm and cozy, sun shining through the window and the thin curtains. Blissfully, he yawned and stretched, taking his time waking up. First thought was that he was in Hogwarts, but that wasn't possible, was it? Not wanting to disturb his heavenly half-asleep state, Draco dug in deeper to the soft bed and pillows. What a great feeling. After some time just laying there, he remembered Potter. _Did I really come to beg a shelter from Potter?_ Okay, it didn't sound that bad. Draco was feeling great. In Potters' apartment. He'd have to get used to the absurd thought.

Last night Potter had showed him the guest room upstairs, and Draco had pretty much stayed there for the rest of the evening. It had felt too weird to start a normal chat with Potter, so Draco had unpacked his luggage and soon fallen asleep. Which felt weird, too - he hadn't slept properly for months and suddenly he wasn't that tired.

But he started to crave for some coffee. And for that, he would have to go downstairs. And face Potter.

Draco sighed out loud, and threw his arm across his face, trying hard not to think.

It had taken him some courage to get a grip of himself and to go there, to ask help. Well, technically, he hadn't asked anything else than a place to stay, and that was all he planned on asking. He didn't want Potter to meddle in his life, his issues. All the same, after all those years of fights and loathing, after all that had happened during the battle of Hogwarts, the circumstances had chased Draco down that path. The truth? He was ashamed. Not really the way he had acted, more likely the fact that, after the last two years in Hogwarts, Potter was aware of Draco's weakness'. The divine saviour that he was, Potter was the only person he was sure to let him stay for a while. But Draco wasn't going to enjoy it for a second. He'd be out as soon as he could, as soon as he was able to sort things out.

With a sigh, he knew it would take a while.

He also knew he'd have to get the awkward small talk with Potter over with, for both of their sakes.

_Okay, what am I afraid of?_ He had a place to stay already. No problem, _right?_

He finally got up and pulled on a dressing gown he had found from the closet. While going down the stairs, he took a deep breath, mentally putting up a guard, as usual. He first noticed the happy fire in the fireplace and felt comfortable warmth again, relaxing just a bit. He rubbed his eyes and slowly entered the kitchen. Of course Potter was up already. He then realized that he had no idea what time it was, but took no further notice of the fact since a nice scent of coffee and toast filled Draco's head. _Oh God_ he was starving.

"Morning," Potter greeted quietly. He was sitting at the table, drinking coffee and eating something that looked pretty good while he paged through the Daily Prophet.

Draco noticed that the whole table was loaded with food - toast, sandwiches, bacon and eggs, juice, tea- and of course coffee. He was reminded of Hogwarts again and so he gave a small smile and slowly sat down.

"What, you cook now?" he asked awkwardly while trying to figure out where to start. He settled for pouring some coffee for himself, unconsciously avoiding looking Potter in the eyes.

Luckily the brunet seemed to have gotten up on the right side of the bed, since he huffed a smile. "No way. Ginny stopped by in the morning."

_In the morning?_ Draco frowned in mid-buttering a toast. "How long did I sleep?"

Harry checked his wristwatch - it was old, made of gold and there were little stars in it. "About thirteen hours," he finally said, "or something like that."

Draco took a bite from his toast and shrugged. "Time well spent."

They ate in silence and Draco was starting to relax a bit. He didn't actually ask if he could have a look at the Prophet, but Potter left some parts on the table for Draco to read.

Nevertheless, Draco started to get paranoid when he noticed that Potter kept leering at him.

He tried to ignore it.

_Okay, that's just annoying._ "If you have something to ask, just ask, Potter. I don't mind," he sighed without giving Potter so much as a look, hoping that the brunet would stop the creepy staring and mind his own business.

"Are you OK?"

Draco hadn't expected Potter to actually ask anything, so he slowly looked up from the article he was pretending to enjoy, and met Potter's eyes. Long eye contact followed and Draco knew he was lucky he hadn't let his guard down for a second. After they both had studied the other's face intensely, Draco looked away.

"None of your business."

"That's not-minding?" Potter smirked, "Funny, because _you_ showing up on _my_ doorstep is actually making it my business."

Draco thought about Potters' words for a while. He was almost right. Draco was staying there now, temporarily of course, so Potter did have some rights. But Draco himself wasn't asking about Potter's business, was he? So it wasn't quite fair. And he had came there just because he'd thought Potter wouldn't be that nosy. And he had only been there about fifteen hours and the Golden Boy was being nosy already. Still, Potter seemed genuinely concerned - or just curious. What's the problem anyway, Potter had always looked like he was a loyal friend.

"All right," he finally said, "_I'm OK_"

Frustration actually filled Potters' face. The brunet rolled his eyes and folded the part of the newspaper he had been reading.

"So, what was the Weasley girl doing here anyway?" Draco asked contently.

"None of your business," Harry answered slowly, going through a punch of letters he had received, not quite bothering to concentrate on them since none of them seemed to be an urgent one.

He wasn't sure why it bugged him so much that Malfoy was such a wreckage of what he use to be. And not knowing _why_.

"Yeah right, I know you two are dating," Draco gave a small laugh, trying to find something interesting from the Prophet. _Draco - 1, Potter - zero._

For a while Potter actually looked like his head was going to explode.

"What a Sherlock you are," Potter smiled - for knowing that Malfoy didn't quite understand the reference - and stood up to wash his dishes, "She just wanted to know why I didn't show up last night."

Draco's eyebrows lifted, "_No offence,_ but you didn't actually look like you were about to go anywhere last night."

"Well, I didn't go."

"So I did ruin your evening after all?"

"I didn't want to go."

"So you owe me one then," Draco snickered, feeling smug.

Potter looked over his shoulder at Draco in disbelieve. Draco straightened his face, doing poor job at it and knowing it.

"So glad you're here," Potter said and snatched Draco's mug out of his hand while the blond was still drinking, and started to wash it too. For a moment Draco felt like whining about it, but then again, he settled for staying quiet and looking out of the window.

Draco smiled. He was feeling great for the first time in ages. Watching the snowflakes falling outside, he started feeling like going outside since he had nothing better to do. So after a while he went upstairs, put on some better clothes and washed his face. It was cold outside, but he really needed to think, alone. Being behind four walls wasn't going to do him any good.

He had just reached the entryway, when Potter seemingly decided to get nosy again.

"Going somewhere?"

Draco tried not to curse out loud when he put his coat on, "Yes _mom,_ but I'll be back home for dinner," he said in a childish voice and shook his head. _Not his bloody business - at all._

"_Ha-ha,_ very funny. But if you'd like to get back inside, take the key from the shelf."

_Potter - 1._

Draco took the key and threw a scarf around his neck, leaving without saying another word.

* * *

Draco was surrounded by a cold breeze, snowflakes landing on his bare hands and melting, one by one. He was sitting in a park, enjoying the fresh winter air and for once, being even with the rest of the world. In other words, he didn't give a fuck about anything right then. The park wasn't actually a park - just a path, a half-frozen pond, trees and benches next to Diagon Alley. Still, the place was beautifully mute apart from distant voices of children playing nearby, and full of magic.

Draco saw a very old and gray lady, sitting on another bench near him, feeding birds. There were birds everywhere, practically surrounding her, but it seemed like nothing could've made her happier. Instead of reprehending this, Draco started wondering why hadn't he tried feeding birds before. He hadn't really ever thought about it. Not that he was feeling like he had actually missed anything. But nevertheless, he still followed how the lady was getting happier by the minute. And the birds were just getting fat.

"Hello, Draco."

_Of course. How obvious was that?_ Draco sighed to the familiar voice without breaking his gaze from the bird woman.

"Hi, Blaise."

Blaise came to Draco's view, and for a moment he too watched the birds flying around. Then he turned back to Draco with a smile.

"What, no hug?" Blaise gave a small laugh and sat next to Draco. When Draco didn't respond, Blaise grew more serious.

"Not even a smile?" Blaise frowned, face near Draco's, "I_ am_ your friend, am I not?"

Draco finally turned to Blaise, and, like he'd thought, just looking at him made him feel quite guilty and sick. It was obvious that Blaise himself had been worried sick. They were best friends, and Draco had left the stage a week ago. Of course he was worried. It was stupid to think otherwise.

"Sorry, mate. I just didn't expect to see you here." _Was that supposed to be an excuse?_

Blaise was obviously not satisfied with Draco's answer, but didn't push it.

"Where have you been?" There was no humor left in his voice. Draco tried not to look at his eyes again, so he kept staring at his shoe.

"Here and there," Draco muttered, "Didn't sleep in a week, if that makes you feel any better."

"Didn't? So you found a place to stay? Or are you coming back?"

_Damn it, Blaise._

"I'm not coming back."

"You can't turn your back to your family."

"I am _not_ turning my back."

Blaise looked as frustrated as Draco was feeling at the moment, "Then what do you call this? I actually had to _track_ you down! _I_ haven't slept nearly in a week either, thanks to you!"

Draco gritted his teeth and refused to look at Blaise. _Please go away._

Blaise sighed, and sat quietly for a moment, then muttered, "Besides, his condition is getting worse."

Draco closed his eyes and took a deep breath, the cold air suffocating him. _Malfoys don't cry._ Not a word came from his mouth. Blaise started talking with his familiarly slow and convincing voice. It was all but helpful.

"You know, you should be there. _Now_. I mean your parents didn't go to Azkaban, have you any idea how lucky that is? You should be there incase of-"

"_I KNOW I SHOULD!"_ Draco finally lost his nerve - he stood up fiercely, "_I know I should be there_, do you actually think that_ I like_ running away? No, they weren't put behind bars, but that had _nothing_ to do with luck, and you know it! But _I know_ I should tell them every single day how much I need them! How I want dad to get better, and mom to stop the _goddamn crying!"_ he shouted, he didn't care that there were people staring at him, he didn't care that all of the birds had flied away.

"_AND I WANT TO KNOW that all will be alright_! But I don't know it! I don't' even fucking believe in it! _Any_ of it! And you're supposed to be my friend!"

Blaise opened his mouth in anger, "I _am_ your-"

"So_ be one _and_ stop pushing me_!"

And then he started walking.

Blaise didn't follow.


	3. The one with the alcohol

Seven o'clock, Saturday night.

Harry was sitting on the floor of his room with a photo album laying next to him, surrounded with photographs. He had had big plans on cleaning his room and rearrange some stuff, and had already sorted out his laundry. It had seemed like the best way to start, since now he could actually see his floor and move around while cleaning. Next step in the list he had made in his mind was to arrange all his property to their proper places, starting with the drawers. But, the first drawer he had opened took him by suprise; it had been full of photographs. Harry hadn't even realised how much he actually had photos. He hadn't taken them himself; there were quite a few endearing photos taken by Molly; some funny one's were from Hermione, and a lot of weird one's taken by Fred and George, and so on. For Harry, it had felt too much like cheating to just pile them up nicely and leave them in the drawer, so he had decided to put then to the album he had gotten from Hagrid all those years ago.

The process really was slow because Harry watched all of the pictures very carefully, trying to remember every moment with a huge smile on his face. He had spent nearly two hours like that already, just sitting there, smiling to himself.

Harry was now watching a photo taken one summer (apparently by George); Ginny was innocently smiling to the camera, and Harry next to her was looking at her lovingly - with Fred making faces behind his back. Harry couldn't help but laughing.

His laugh stopped short when he suddenly heard a loud bang from downstairs. Immediately he was on his toes; he reached for his wand and, without even putting the photo down, he carefully went to the hallway.

Harry had just reached the bottom of the stairs when Malfoy ran into him. The blond looked very upset and was apparently heading to the guestroom.

"What's going on?" Harry almost expected that someone was following Malfoy, and so he kept leering to the front door. No one was in sight.

"Nothing!" Malfoy snapped while he didn't even stop to explain himself. So Harry blocked his way up the stairs.

Malfoy made a sound of despair and frustration, and for a moment it seemed like he would actually punch Harry. He did try to push Harry out of his way, but Harry wasn't the one to cooperate.

"What the hell are you doing? What happened?"

"Just _leave it_, Potter!" This time Malfoy actually shouted and met Harry's eyes for the first time, and Harry noticed that he looked a bit teary. Nevertheless, right then Malfoy looked feral, so Harry decided it was probably for the best to let him go. He moved aside, and the blond dashed upstairs. Seconds later he heard Malfoy slamming his door shut.

For a moment Harry stood still at the bottom of the stairs, quite confused. It occured to him that maybe he should go after the blond, to try to calm him down. He shook that thought off immediatelly. Then, after a while, he slowly walked to his couch in the living room and stayed there.

Harry sat there for a quite a long time thinking about the bit of a situation they were having. Should he do something? What? He still had his wand in his hands - as well as the picture. Every once in a while he looked at it to straighen up his thoughts.

Harry looked at Fred in the picture. The redhead looked back with raised eyebrows and a crooked smile. For some reason Harry wondered what would Fred do in such a situation. Since it was Malfoy in question, Fred would've probably just joked about it? Fred in the picture was now looking at the ground laughing almost shyly. Or maybe he would've been serious about it? Generally concerned? Harry sighed. He honestly wished Fred would be there. Not only for himself, but for everyone else too. Especially for George. It hurt Harry to even think about George, and what he had become. After Fred had been killed, George hadn't been the same, and, even though George had been unbelievebly strong about it, Harry knew he'd never be the same again. Once again, he tried to push these thoughts away. Not a day passed by without thinking about the losses during the war.

_It's over now._

Harry turned his focus on Ginny. She was laughing in the picture now, and even though Harry knew that she hated that photo, he loved it. And he was quite sure what she would do, right then. She'd talk. Girls were good at stuff like that, weren't they? For a second he hoped Ginny was there to talk to Malfoy, but immidiately he realized it would be disastrous. Harry hadn't yet told anyone that Malfoy was staying with him temporarily, because it was just that - temporary. But in a situation like that, he had no clue what to do. Harry wasn't the most straightforward person, so how was it possible for him to talk to Malfoy?

He had been rather reckless when he had let Malfoy stay there with no further inquiries, but he had some symphaty left towards Malfoy. Furthermore, he was somewhat curious: no one had really heard from the Malfoys in ages. Not after the trials to say the least. Harry had no reason to suspect that they were still practising dark magic, since Harry himself was the one to guarantee their innosence, and had been present when the authoroties had cleaned the Manor up. But apart from that, he had no idea what had been happening behind those walls since. Truthfully speaking, when Malfoy had first appeared behind his door, Harry had had a sleepless night, but he was sure it was because he was so used to connecting Malfoy's presense to something bad. He had even checked in the morning if Malfoy was in fact sleeping, and the results were no less than he had expected them to be. And it had indeed looked like Malfoy could use the good night's sleep. But of course Harry was keeping a close eye on Malfoy, and hoped it was enough.

With these same thoughts running in his head over and over again, Harry sat there, staring at the flames in the fireplace, and started to feel sleepy. Every once in a while he heard something breaking upstairs. Harry didn't worry about it, he knew how to repair his stuff - and he couldn't even imagine what would happen _to him_ if he'd go up there bitching about the condition of his furniture.  
The voices from upstairs stopped after good twenty minutes. Harry took this as a sign that Malfoy might have calmed down a bit. He started to feel rather anxious, and still didn't know what to do. He came to the conclusion that if Malfoy needed to talk about it, he's come down on by himself. They were both adults there, and Harry saw no reason to force the matter any further. Still, Harry was getting tired of thinking, and he couldn't really process the entire situation, not to mention Malfoy's inner feelings or so. So he knew what was required in a situation like that - _alcohol_.

Soon there were two glasses and one bottle of scotch on the coffee table next to the couch, and Harry was again sitting there drinking, and also being little bit happier than he had been a moment ago.

After a while Harry heard steps coming down the stairs and suddenly Malfoy appeared at the bottom of the stairs. Harry noticed that the man looked very tired as well as pissed off, and somehow ashamed, looking at the floor while leaning against the doorframe. Harry looked at him but didn't say anything. Malfoy opened his mouth a couple of times, but seemed like he had a loss of words.

"Done with the redecorating?" Harry asked eventually, giving Malfoy an understanding smile.

Malfoy raised his eyes from the floor for a moment, and returned them back at his feet with a small wrince on his face.

"Yeah, I'm going to clean that up," Malfoy said and blushed lightly, wiggleing his toes, but not really apologising. Not that neither of them really took notice of the fact, it was just a bit unnatural for Draco to apologise, and unnatural for Harry to expect him to.

Harry shrugged, "Don't bother, I'll fix it tomorrow," he said.

They both were caught up in an uncomfortably silence, Harry wringing his fingers unconciously, Draco kicking the floor slightly.

Harry cleared his throath and lifted up the bottle he had on the table, "Umh, you want some?"

Malfoy raised his eyes again and blinked a couple of times to the bottle Harry was helding. He then let out the breath he hadn't realised he had been helding, "Please," he sighed tiredly, and then moved to the couch and slumped next to Harry. He took the glass Harry offered him and emptied it at once.

If someone had told Harry a year ago that he'd be soon spending his Saturday night drinking - what he did quite infrequently - with Draco Malfoy of all people, he would've probably told them off. But there they were, the two of them, sitting on Harry's couch, silently drinking, both of them lost in their thoughts, both of them refilling their glasses when necessary. The whole concept was utterly absurd, and Harry felt like he was in one of Salvador Dali's paintings or so. Malfoy's presense alone was quite confusing, not to mention the fact that they were actually drinking together. Every once in a while Harry took a look at Malfoy, who had now closed his eyes and was resting his head against the couch. If it wasn't for the occasional drinking, it would've looked like the man was sleeping. Now, when Malfoy was closer, Harry did notice the slight reddness around the blond's closed eyes. Again, Harry felt a bit of symphaty towards him. Harry still had the picture and he was just twiddling it in his hands while wondering if he should maybe say something.

He also felt like he was going mad if he'd keep silent any longer, even though the silent drinking had it's benefits.

"So do you want to talk about it?" Harry finally asked, and immediatly wrinced to himself, the words leaving his mouth sounding very clumsy even to himself.

Draco flinched at this - he had had no problem with the silence between them. He was used to that. Silence. It took him quite a while to find his voice again.

"Umh," Malfoy seemingly felt a bit awkward.

Harry tried to ease him through it, "Okay, well, did you ran into somebody?"

Draco wondered this for a second. He could've easily told Potter to bugger off, but he swallowed his outburst. _What the heck, _he thought, _I can answer to a simple question if it's so damn important._

"Yes I did," Draco didn't actually know why he bothered to answer, since he was in no mood for Q&A. But he did anyway.

Harry refilled both of their glasses with nothing better to do, while kept going on with the simple questions, "Someone I know?"

"Yes, I think so."

"Bad news?"

"Irksome," Draco grimaced at the memory, but drank it away.

"Maybe you should forget it. Don't give a fuck," Harry suggested, even though he had little clue what he was actually talking about.

Draco almost gave a laugh to Potter's advice, after what Blaise had told him. He was again lost in his thoughts for a minute, lost in his so-called friend's words.

"I can't turn my back," he whispered suddenly.

Harry lifted his eyebrows, "To whom?"

Malfoy met his eyes for a brief moment, but then turned his face away, looking straight ahead again, his silver-grey eyes vacuous and tense.

"Why are you here?" Harry pushed. He couldn't let the subject go, alcohol made his even more stubborn than usual.

"Because," Malfoy said dully, "I don't really belong anywhere"

Harry had no clue what he should say or do. He just stared at Malfoy, who was drinking silently.

"Well," Harry said, "who says you can't just...turn your back? You should be able to do whatever you want," he rambled on. _Okay, that wasn't really comforting, was it?_

"Yeah, that's what I thought, too."

"But?" Harry pushed the subject even more, and realised that their little conversation made little sense to him, but didn't actually bother about it too much. He actually started to feel more comfortable around Malfoy, so he merely enjoyed the rare occasion when he got to drink a bit.

"Empty," Malfoy frowned.

"I've had that feeling too, but you know what, it always gets better when you-"

"_The bottle,_ Potter," Malfoy sighed.

Harry gave an awkward laugh, "Ohh, right. Well, I think I have some more left..." Harry kept rambling as he went back to the kitchen.

_Yes, Potter is an idiot. No doubt about it. _Draco stared at the ceiling, rubbing his face._ It doesn't actually matter - he will probably forget everything by tomorrow._ He felt a bit dizzy. The scotch was going straight to his head already. _Doesn't matter either._

Draco heard Potter coming back and saw him helding out four more bottles of scotch with a joyous grin.

Draco snorted with a small smile.

The evening went on and on, and Harry and Draco were now talking more freely, pretty much about everything, but neither of them brought up any subjects from the past. As the time passed - as well as the alcohol - the weirder their subjects went. So, about at ten o'clock they were at the point of giggling to Ron Weasley's freckles.

"Haha," Harry tried to catch his breath after his hysterical laughter, and wiped away the tears that had appeared. He hadn't really laughed like that for some time, "I think I'm done," he said, putting his glass away. Malfoy took none of that.

"_Nooo no_, we should make a toast!" he ojected while still laughing, rubbing his side, and refilled both their glasses with what was left of the scotch.

Harry couldn't help himself, so he just accepted the drink, meanwhile carelessly trying to remember how many he had already had, "Alright. What for?"

"To the boy who wouldn't die!" Malfoy declared enthusiastically after some thinking, "..Or _man_, if you like," he added with a small frown, and raised his glass, "For being much too generous!"

Harry raised his glass too, but also added, "And to the...to the..._Slytherin Prince?_"

They looked at each other for a split-second before both of them bursted out laughing even harder than before, Malfoy falling backwards into the couch, barely keeping his drink balanced, and laughed silently with his mouth wide open. Harry had to hold his stomach for he was laughing so hard, but managed to add between breaths: "Or whatever they call you these days!"

And they drank the toast happily after they had somehow calmed down a bit.

"I shall buy you a new bottle of scotch tomorrow. Or more likely five of them," Malfoy shook his head, staring at the five bottles on the table, one still half full.

Harry snorted loudly to the blond, "I thought I owed you one, didn't I?"

"Hah, _nonsense!_ Potter, you owe me nothing," Malfoy started joyfully, but then grew more seious, "...Quite the reverse, actually."

Their laughter quieted down, and they somewhat unconciously reminded themselves of with whom they actually were drinking with. _How did it end up like this?  
_Draco might've been drunk, but he knew that if he was meant to let the words come out at some point, it might as well had been that one. He'd been always very...mentally sober whilst physically drunk, so he trusted himself to not to say anything he wasn't supposed to be saying. It only took him a second to consider the words that left his mouth next.

"I mean, my family and I," he started out slowly, "We owe you with our lives."

Harry had a sudden flashback of the day of the hearing, but he shrugged it off of his mind. He gave Malfoy a quick glance, the blond was looking uncomfortable, again staring at the fireplace they had managed to keep lit. Harry smiled a weak smile.

"Don't worry about that," he said with the lack of anything better to say.

"It's true," Draco insisted. If anything had ever been hard for him, it was showing his gratitude to someone. He didn't like to show it, the result being that he never did. He hated it. Being in debt.

"And you know, even though dad's not going to be around much longer," Draco was talking more to himself than to Potter, "it's great he can spend his last days at home, not in prison."

This confused Harry quite a bit actually, "What are you talking about?"

"You should listen more carefully," Malfoy frowned at Harry, "I was talking about my father," Malfoy had a huge yawn and a strech at this, he suddenly realised he was feeling a bit tired. He decided it would be terrible waste to not to drink the rest of the scotch, and with that thought in mind he poured the last drops to his own glass. Harry had already put his glass aside.

"Something...something wrong with Lucius?" Harry had hard time to speak properly, not to mention to think clearly.

"Yeah well, some shrink told me it might be some kind of disease caused by serious stress, but what do they know?" Malfoy blabbered on, not really answering to Harry's question.

Harry was stunned. "I...I'm sorry," he whispered, "Maybe he'll get better?"

"I seriously doubt that," Draco said meaning both, Potter being truly sorry, and the fact that his father would suddenly have a miraculous cure. He felt a bit cold inside, so he quickly drank the remaining liquid from his glass, and continued, "I don't know what to do. I should be there for them, and I really want to be. But if I go back, the pressuring starts all over again; how I should lift our family back to the society and all," his tone had changed to a disparaging one, but he hurried to say, "I don't mean my parents, all they wanted was to start all over with their lives."

Draco was lost in thought for a moment.

"But the rest of my relatives," Malfoy looked at Harry with raised eyebrows, "aren't that smart. They all pretty much escaped before the war really got going. They were no Death Eaters, but no fighters either. So they don't...understand the sacrifices we have made. I'm just glad to be alive," he looked at Harry with a somewhat thankful expression in his eyes.

"You know that you can stay here as long as you like, right?" Harry had nothing better to say. He, too, felt the alcohol taking over: if he'd close his eyes, he was sure to pass out.

"I know," Malfoy said and stood up, too quickly, since he almost fell over Harry, who catched him just in time. He hadn't been prepared to feel the alcohol rush straight to his head once he was up, so it took a while to get used to. Malfoy shut his eyes shut and shook his head in hopes of clearing it.

Harry stood up too, still holding on Malfoy's arm, but Malfoy didn't let Harry help him, just merely shrugged him off.

He gave Harry a quick glance.

"I'm gonna get some sleep before I actually fell over you," Malfoy faltered, and started wondering towards the stairs. Harry watched him going, and bit his lip.

"Are you sure you can handle those stairs?" Harry asked with a serious amount of doubt in his voice.

Malfoy didn't miss the tone.

"_I am_ Draco fucking Malfoy," he mumbled, "I can handle _everything._"

Harry shook his head, and snatched the glasses and the bottles from the table and back to the kitchen. He heard a lot of stumbling from the stairs, but after a moment there was a sound of door shutting.  
Harry stood there, in his kitchen, leaning against the counter with his arms across his chest, eyes closed, for quite some time. He attempted to memorize everything he had talked about with Malfoy, but soon he started to feel like he was going to fall over. Since he didn't fancy the idea of sleeping on the kitchen floor only to be discovered by Malfoy the next morning, he decided to go to bed, too.

Harry discovered that it really was an effort to make those stairs, and all he could think about was his own sweet bed. When Harry finally made it to his room, he noticed that his door was already open.

He stood at the doorway incredulously for a few seconds, trying to register what he saw.

"You've got to be kidding me?" Harry managed to groan out, watching Malfoy lying on Harry's bed.

No response, the man was in deep sleep. And he was also drooling on Harry's pillow.

"God damn it," Harry sighed, but decided not to wake Malfoy. He wasn't even sure how it would've been possible, either.

So he went to Malfoy's room and for a moment he froze there, too. Harry stared the destruction in his guest room with blurry vision. The blond had done quite a good job, though Harry was happy to notice that the bed might've actually been the only furniture there that wasn't damaged.

So, Harry climbed to the bed, and cumbersomely toed his shoes off, not bothering to take off his remaining clothes, either. He merely buried himself into Malfoy's pillows, and threw the covers halfheartedly over himself.

Harry fell asleep easily.


	4. The suspicion

Draco shifted a bit under the covers and slightly opened his eyes. He was still half asleep and with no coherent thoughts. All he saw was pillows and blankets, and the beautiful sunlight coming through the window and the white curtains right next to the bed. Not that he really took any notice of one of the most beautiful winter mornings. It took him a moment to comprehend the fact that he was slowly waking up from the sweet nothingness, and all he wanted to do was to firmly decide against it. Waking up would inevitably make him _feel._

_Not so great feeling._

For starters, Draco felt dizzy as hell. Mouth dry, head pounding and back aching. For a moment he even felt like he could claw his eyeballs out, for they were stinging badly. He settled for closing his eyes again tightly with the smallest of whimpers. He buried himself deeper into the pillows and blankets to avoid the bright sunlight, desperate for the lovely state of sleep.

For a second it actually felt like he was going to fall asleep again, but it was too late. He was awake enough to start to pick up noices. Like birds. Singing.

Loudly.

"Shut _uuup!_" he wailed into the pillow, not able to ignore the demonic chirping.

Draco spent good thirty minutes just laying there, tossing and turning in the bed. He was trying to block the unwanted and annoyingly loud noises by holding a pillow on top of his head, his subconscious kindly pointing out that he must have looked nothing more than a six-year-old again. Not that he'd be that hungover whilst only six years old. Therefore he started to block away his subconscious too, attempting to clear his mind with the very methods his aunt Bella had taught him to. It didn't take too long to discover it only made his head pound even harder and louder by the minute. Getting cross with himself, Draco gave in and started to get up. It was an effort to do so.

At first, while sitting up in the bed, Draco started pondering if he was still drunk, because the room he was in surely wasn't his. Sitting there, scanning the unfamiliar room, he started to get a bit freaked out. He instantly checked that he was in the bed alone, which he was. Also, he noted that he had all his clothes on. Draco sighed in relief. Now he would only have to find out where he was.

It didn't take too long. The decoration of the room matched with every room in Potter's apartment Draco had been in. Additionally, there was a pile of photos and an album spread around on the floor. Nearly in all of them were the Golden Trio, so Draco came to the conclusion that he was, in fact, in Potter's room. A quick look into the wardrobe ensured that. _How did I end up here?_

_'Well, as long as I have my clothes on, I'm happy,'_ Draco thought unconcernedly, and again with no other conherent thoughts, he went to take a long shower to clear up his head.

The shower made him feel a lot better but also even more exhausted. Draco didn't feel like going back to sleep in Potter's room, but he didn't want to go to his own one either. Mainly because he had no idea if Potter was sleeping there, and he really didn't want to find out. Though he was feeling rude enough to snatch some clothes from Potter's wardrobe. He wrinkled his nose for most of the clothes he regrettably discovered there, but settled for a t-shirt and a pair of loose trousers nevertheless.

He then sneaked towards downstairs without so much as a look to the guest room. Part of him sincerely hoped that Potter wouldn't have woken up yet, although it must've been well past noon already. Nevertheless, the other, greedy part of him had it's fingers crossed that Potter was up, since Draco had noticed the day before that the coffee machine in the kitchen didn't look familiar at all, and he knew Potter well enough that the machine was surely made by Muggels. How was Draco supposed to learn to use that?

Once he managed to the living room, he started to hear some noises from the kitchen: water was running. Draco was equally relieved as he was disappointed, and supposed that Potter was indeed a morning person, even whilst hungover. Draco sighed in disbelief. _Who the hell washes the dishes hungover in the morning? _He shrugged to himself and entered the kitchen somewhat happily when he knew he wouldn't have to scatter the coffee maker to figure out how it worked. Happy thoughts aside, Draco stalled the moment he entered the kitchen.

_Well, that sure ain't Potter._

Draco stared at the woman by the sink, washing the dishes, her back towards Draco. She hadn't noticed him, and when Draco recovered from the confusion caused by the unexpected sight, he - being the man that he was - smoothly took a good look at her.

Long brown hair and _very_ tight jeans were the main things he noticed - and appreciated. _That ass sure ain't Potter's, _he grinned to himself and leaned against the kitchen counter. His toughts were once again disturbed as he almost lost his balance because of some water on the floor - caused by the enthusiastic washing process - and managed to make a some sort of a yelp, almost tripping over.

She heard it.

"Oh, sorry Harry, I didn't want to wake you up but, you know me, all the dishes caught my attention and_OH-GOOD-GOD!_" Granger started gabbling and ended up screaming when she turned around and saw Draco, who also started screaming in surprise.

"_Shit_, stop it, _stop yelling_!" Draco wailed, feeling his head almost explode due to the whining sound Granger managed to make.

"How did you get in?" Granger was obviously upset, and she was holding a soapy fork in her hand as a weapon or so.

"Well I have _a key,_" Draco muttered, rubbing his head. He was actually quite upset that a few seconds ago he had indeed been gazing at Granger's ass, and was trying to shake those kind of thoughts away - fast. On the other hand, his head couldn't take any kind of shaking at the moment.

"Excuse me?" she gaped at him, feeling more confused than ever.

"It's OK! I'm staying here," Draco tried to assure her, but knew he was doing poor job at it. And he couldn't really blame her. "I'll explain myself, yes, but first, could you tell me how this thing works?" he casually moved to the coffee maker, trying to lighten up the mood a bit.

Granger actually looked hazardous for a moment. "_What?_"

Draco winced. "You know, _no offence_ but your voice is pretty high and I am, indeed, hungover, so I would _really_ appreciate a cup of coffee. Help, _please_?"

Granger got dumbfounded, and for quite some time she just stood there, staring at Draco. He started pondering if he should just make a run for it. He didn't like the fact that he didn't actually know where his wand was. Or hers, for that matter.

Granger frowned and moved to the machine without taking her eyes of Draco. "Fine," she muttered venomously. Draco felt the tiniest bit of relieve inside him, which faded away the moment Granger took her wand in her other hand, set as a warning for Draco as she made the coffee. He sat down on the chair farthest away from her.

It didn't take long before Draco had his glorious cup of coffee in front of him. Granger was still glaring at him, her eyes full of suspicion. He didn't know what she had been thinking about while silently making the coffee, but she seemed less pissed off. Nevertheless, Draco was very aware that she still had her wand in her hands.

"Explain," Hermione demanded after a moment of glaring, her wand pointing at Malfoy's direction.

"Explain _what_?" Draco said, frustrated and a bit pissed because apparently she didn't feel confident enough to lower her wand. "I woke up with a hangover, came here to get an innocent cup of coffee, and you started screaming at me. What's there to explain?" he muttered angrily, old habits starting to take place.

Hermione started to feel even more concerned. She had fiqured that Malfoy had maybe spent the night there, but hadn't seen him on the couch when she arrived.

"You slept here? Where?"

"In Potter's room," Draco said unconcernedly before he actually thought it through.

Granger gasped in shock._ "In where?"_

For a moment it looked like Granger would start yelling again. Draco definitelly couldn't handle that.

"_No no,_ goddammit, I got drunk and-"

"WHERE _IS_ HARRY?"

"_IN THE GUEST ROOM!_" Draco yelled, gripping his own hair in frustration. The Granger girl went quiet, but looked exactly like she had five years ago, just before she had punched him in the face in Hogwarts. She was staring at him for long time, and again Draco thought about running away while he still had all of his limbs intact. Nevertheless, he never broke the eye contact between them.

And then, without another word, she left the kitchen.  
Draco let out a relieved breath.

"Merlin, she _is_ insane," he muttered to himself and finally got to enjoy his coffee.

Soon Granger was back, a bit calmer to say the least. Draco was still very guarded around her, and pretty much just tried to ignore her.

"So? Potter's still alive, is he not?" he sneered before he could stop himself.

"_Yes,_ he is. Almost unconscious, I'd say." She stood there, arms crossed, apparently waiting for Draco to say something. He didn't give her the pleasure.

"I don't know _what_ you did to him, but he has done quite a damage to the guest room." Granger stubbornly sat next to Draco, who shifted away a little.

There were couple of silent minutes when Draco tried hard to enjoy the bitter coffee she had made, but couldn't ignore Granger goggling at him.

"Seriously, what _did_ you do to him?"

Draco groaned, irritated. "If you're talking about his condition, the scotch was his idea," he was getting seriously pissed off by now. "but if about the condition of the room, that's purely my piece of art."

Again, Granger looked quite unbalanced. Draco tried to shift away from her even more, but he was already leaning against the wall.

"Do you have _any idea_ how much it took me to make that room _nice?_"

_Ah, so Potter doesn't have that good taste after all._

Draco just stared at her suspiciously. After the incident with Blaise, the last thing he had had in mind the day before was Granger and her stupid decorating. "Yeah well, I didn't like the lamps."

"Let me get this straight, you came here, messed up the room, got Harry drunk, then you took his room and made him go to the room_ you _had damaged?"

It was like being interrogated by his mom.

"You got three out of five, actually," Draco counted, at the moment he liked nothing better than to piss her off. "I did come here, I did mess up Potter's guest room, and I did take his own room - but at that point I was barely conscious. Potter actually got me and himself drunk, but I didn't make him go to my room. It was purely his own choice."

"_Why?_"

"Are you always this nosy?"

Granger had a furious look on her face. Draxo had always thought that she was actually very dangerous at times, even if she was pretending to be sweet on the outside. And apparently, she wasn't really a morning person either. Draco knew he shouldn't start messing around when it came to her, or he'd be in some serious trouble.

"Alright alright, don't explode. I'm staying here. Temporarily."

Granger was clearly taken aback by this.

Draco immidiatelly understood that Potter hadn't told her anything about his staying, whatever the reasons. He felt a bit relieved by this, because it meant that he probably hadn't told anybody. Well all the same, he actually felt extremely relieved. But it didn't make the current situation any easier, since he noticed that Granger started looking a bit hurt.

"I guess Potter didn't mention that to you?"

"No, he didn't," she said tightly, "but I just came back from Hogwarts anyway, and I haven't been in contact with Harry for a while. So I though I should stop by on my way to Diagon Alley."

"You really went back to Hogwarts?" Draco asked with lifted eyebrows, unconsciously trying to change the subject.

Granger's face almost radiated dissaproval. "I want to finish my studies."

Hermione ignored Malfoy's snort. She still couldn't believe she hadn't been able to persuade Ron and Harry with her to finish school. Most of the people from their old class had come back to Hogwarts for the exceptional eighth year the professors had arranged after the war. Hermione herself had enjoyed the autumn term more than she had really expected to - mostly because it had so far been the most normal term at Hogwarts she had ever experienced, even with some renovations still going on there. She still wished Ron and Harry would've come with her, although Hermione did understand why they didn't; Ron was there for his family, and especially for George. Harry had been a part of making changes in the Ministry and so on, Kingsley keeping close touch with him. Harry had been very busy for quite some time, and had decided to finish his studies by himself whilst training to become an Auror, as did Ron. But it seemed like neither of them were actually considering getting their N.E.W.T.s.  
Hermione shook these thoughts off.

"So you're just...staying here? For how long?"

Draco was surprised that she hadn't asked him why he was staying there in the first place. Not that he wanted her to ask, but it seemed like she knew it wasn't something to be brought up, which made her far more clever he had ever given her credit for.

"I came here Friday, not sure when I'll leave," he muttered, "I'm not staying too long, though."

"Right."

She knew it wasn't hers to ask about what had brought Malfoy there, since he was apparently trying to avoid the whole conversation anyway. The man really looked awful, she knew he must've had hard time. Hermione could only imagine what he had been through, no one really knew for sure. There had been a lot of speculation by the press on what was going on behind the closed doors of the Malfoy Manor. It would be only a matter of time before the speculation would take a step too far, and the consequenses could be horrid. She decided to drop the subject. Malfoy had already had to endure quite a lot.

"I should wake Harry up," she said quietly.

Draco startled a bit for she had been lost in her thoughts for quite some while. He considered a second. "You shouldn't."

"And why's that?" she asked with the usual suspicious tone emerging once again.

Draco sighed tiredly and shook his head. "Have you_ ever_ had a hangover?"

She merely huffed at that, starting to look impatient as she glanced up at the ceiling, and again turned to look Draco.

"I'm not going to stay long, and I wanted someone with me to Diagon Alley," she pretty much whined in frusrtation.

"What, you're not saying you're going back to Hogwarts for the holidays too?" he asked in disbelief, and a bit uninterested as he played with a small jar of tea leafs.

She leant back in her seat. "No, I'm going to the Burrow."

Draco dropped the subject. He didn't feel like encouraging Granger to start rambling about how she was going to spend a wonderful holiday at the Weasley residence. He bit his lip as an attempt to not to make any shitty remarks about it. Instead, he looked outside the window, hoping she would leave already. It had apparently snowed quite a lot the night before, and he felt a chill going up his spine. He let his mind wonder around to the previous Christmases in the Manor for a second.

"You know what," Granger said suddenly, bringing Draco back to reality. "You look like you should get out of the house."

It took a moment for Draco to register what the had actually just said, and he slowly turned back to meet her eyes in disbelief but was afraid to say anything.

"How about you came to the Alley with me?" she asked, and even smiled at him.

Draco gave an awkward laugh. Granger did smile, but didn't laugh. _It wasn't a joke? _He frowned in confusion.

"_Are you serious_?"

"Well I could really use some company."

"Absolutely not," Draco stated.

"Why not?" she reasoned, "It's not like Harry's going to wake up anytime soon, and anyway, I bet you could use the fresh air more than he does."

Draco attemted to make some sort of an objection, but didn't really know what to say. He was still waiting for Granger to announce that she was only kidding, but she did no such thing. She actually looked like she couldn't understand what the problem was. _To hell with that_, he tried to reason himself, of course there was a problem. Like he could just go and wonder around Diagon Alley with Hermione Granger of all people. What's the point in that?  
But then he took another look at Granger who looked as normal as could be, and who looked at him - well - almost friendly. Draco sighed for he knew he had already lost it.

"_Fine_, I'll go."


	5. The smiling

Sun was shining through the dirty windows of Flourish and Blotts, sunlight making the slowly drifting dust in the shop even more visible. It was very quiet in the stuffy shop, few people did their Christmas shopping at such an early hour. A plump old woman was dusting the shelves nearby, not that it made any difference at all.

"Could you _please_ decide?"

Draco was sitting on the only crooked chair in the shop, burying his head in his hands, making the smallest whimper. Granger had been standing on the very same spot for about fifteen minutes, holding two huge books in her hands with a look on her face that had started out as general pondering and had ended up to sheer desperation.

"But I'm not sure which one I want more!" she whined for the thousandth time.

"They're _books_ Granger," Draco declared, looking up from his hands and at Granger, "I'm sure you own one too many anyway, so _please_ put them back."

"You're not helping, Malfoy!"

"Like I'd give a shit of which one you'll buy," Draco muttered under his breath - he was again reminded why he didn't go shopping with girls. Ever. He yawned, the silence and dust in the shop making him sleepy and anxious. He seriously started to think if he'd yawn one more time his jaw would probably just fall off.

Granger gave him a half-serious frown. "Well, if you want to get out of here today, I'd say you actually_ should _give a shit."

Draco glanced up to Granger again and sighed when he saw she was quite serious. Thoughts of dragging her out of the shop with force slipped out of his mind. He'd be better off not pissing her off.

"Okay, what are the books about?" he asked uninterestedly.

"Like I haven't told you that for million times already?"

"Did I actually look like I was listening?" Draco asked with raised eyebrows.

"Malfoy, you're impossible ... the large one the one I really want, it's about this

brand new research about Muggles and our influence on them-"

"The large one? You're calling the other one _small?_ They're both at least over 1000 pages, aren't they?"

Granger didn't say anything but the look she gave to Draco told more that thousand words. He cleared his throat.

"Right, the second one?"

"New edition of my Transfiguration book I need for my lessons."

Silence fell between them, Malfoy staring at the books, Hermione staring at Malfoy, waiting him to say something.

"Umh, Granger?"

"Malfoy_?_"

"Do you actually _need_ that book for your studies?"

"Um, well ... not really, but for background reading-"

"And what do you need the Muggle book for, you are ... well ... Muggle-born, aren't

you?" Draco hadn't noticed, but he was getting in dangerous waters right then, so he tried to be very careful with the subject.

Again, a moment of silence followed. The fact that Draco Malfoy had just used the term _Muggle-born _took Hermione by surprise. She stalled.

"Umh, yes ... I am?"

"Well, do you actually need that book?"

"Well," Granger turned the book in her hands, looking at it longingly, "It's not just some rabble about Muggles as their own species or anything, as I told you, it's a new research with-"

Draco gave up. "Okay okay, you need neither of them, but if you _really really _want the large one, that's the one you should get."

"But my studies at Transfiguration-" Hermione stopped short when she heard Malfoy snickering.

"_What's so funny?_"

"You are," Draco looked up at Granger whose cheeks were now a shade redder. "School comes first, no matter what."

"That's not true!"

"Yeah right," Draco drawled as stood up and started moving slowly towards the counter at the other end of the shop. "Are we going?"

"But ... but I haven't decided yet." Hermione frowned, confused.

"Come on Granger, you're going to buy the Transfiguration book and you know it." And without another word Malfoy disappeared somewhere in the middle of the bookshelves and left Hermione there speechless.  
She stood there for another second and then put the new research back to its own place.

* * *

They were walking down the street, covered in snow, and despite the fact that they were nearly freezing to death, both of them had a small smile on their face. More people started to appear, rushing from one shop's warmth to another's, while the owners were trying to melt the snow from in front of their doors, adding Christmas offers to the windows, and raising the prize of hot drinks.

Time to time Draco was watching suspiciously over his shoulder, not able to forget how easily Blaise had found him the other day. It was now making him more careful - if Blaise found him again, Draco would make a run for it. Of course he wasn't completely serious about that, but he was on a quite good mood, he played with the idea that made him smile a bit.

Hermione did take notice of Malfoy's smile, and she wondered what he was actually smiling about. She couldn't help noticing that the smile of his was actually... sincere, even though it was the smallest of smiles. That made her curious, and quite surprised to say the least. Hermione had grown too used to the usual sneer on the Malfoy's face, she hadn't expected anything like that at all. That encouraged Hermione to be herself - and so she dropped her guard.

They went trough many different shops, and Granger found something useful from every one of them. Draco noticed she was getting really excited about this. In other words, about everything. She amazed the snow and the nice sparkle of it; the lovely birds; all the nice people they came across (eventhough Draco didn't take any part of the small talk, he merely stood there while Granger handled it). It was really amazing how she found something good from everything. Draco really thought for a second that she had forgotten who she was with - Draco Malfoy of all people. The thought brought him back to reality for a moment, the bubble was bursted. Then another thought came to him. Though of Granger making up all the things she talked about during their little shopping trip - so there would be no awkward silence between them. The thought hadn't much of a chance to grow, because it didn't take too long to notice that she was actually sincere. Draco didn't even notice the smile he had on his face. He started thinking this was the right thing to do - to forget everything, even just for a couple of hours, and amaze the sparkle of the snow.

So, Granger talked, laughed and smiled - and Draco listened.

"What are you actually looking for?" Draco asked suddenly. Granger shut her mouth and looked surprised. _Maybe she had forgotten I'm actually here_, Draco thought and grinned a bit.

"Um, what?"

"From this shopping trip, I mean," Draco lifted up one of his eyebrows. "You have

found something from every shop we've been in so far, so what are you actually looking for?"

"So window-shopping isn't a familiar concept to you?" She laughed. "Well, I think I've found almost everything but-," Granger stopped in mid-sentence when she saw somebody behind Draco's bac and smiled even wider and started waving. Draco turned to look to the direction where she was looking at.

"Harry, here!"

Of course Potter has to be here.

And there he was, coming from the direction of the Leaky Cauldron, apparently freezing, hands tugged into his pockets. He was smiling too, walking towards them.

"Hello there," he greeted when he reached them, looking a bit pale and tired.

"Granger dragged me along to go shopping," Draco complained, and for that he received a very incredulous look from her.

"Yeah, I got your note, Hermione. I figured out I should come to look for you two. You're probably leaving to the Burrow after this?"

Granger muttered something incoherent as an answer, not paying much attention since she had just found a new shop she hadn't noticed before.

"You actually left your bed voluntarily?" Draco amazed.

"Well, _yours_ actually" Potter corrected. Draco grimaced at him.

"_Anyway_, what note?"

"Oh, I left a note on his desk where we'll be," Granger said, away with the fairies, examining the shop's window.

Draco glanced at her. "What, you _knew_ I was going to come along?"

"Of course," she said and then took a look at Draco's face. "_Oh come on_, don't be such a baby, you really needed the fresh air anyway."

Harry hold back his laugh when Malfoy leered at Hermione. A very cold wind

got to them and Harry shivered. "Could we go somewhere warm? I can't feel my fingers."

"I support that. How about the Leaky Cauldron, I really think I need a drink-" Draco started but Granger grabbed his arm in a bossy manner.

"_No!_ You two had had enough of that," she reproached. "We're going to that nice coffeehouse over there!" And with that she started pulling Draco towards the said coffeehouse.

Draco gave a helpless look to Potter who looked way too pleased, and who followed them casually. But when Draco opened his mouth to complain, Potter quickly showed Draco a pocket flask he had inside his jacket. Draco shut his mouth and let the Granger girl lead him, with a spiked espresso in his thoughts.

* * *

The coffeehouse was rather cosy, it wasn't yet packed with eager shoppers. Harry and Draco were sitting at a table next to a large window. Granger had left to the ladies' room, leaving two of them in a rather awkward silence.

"You should've warned me," Draco said suddenly, looking out of the window. "You have absolutely no idea what I've been through today."

"Believe me, I do," Potter stated, amused. "You can consider yourself lucky - you didn't have to go with her shopping for clothes."

"That's just ... horrible."

"Yes. And she's not even that bad, but Ginny on the other hand ..." Potter met Draco's eyes for a brief moment and he gave Draco a look. "You can't even complain because they are rather dangerous girls to hang out with."

Draco gave a smile. "You'd better warn me if she's going to visit you any time soon."

Harry smirked and silently decided he probably shouldn't tell Malfoy that Ginny had indeed promised to visit him very soon since it was her winter holiday, too. Maybe if she'd want to go shopping, Harry could just push Malfoy along with her. Quite a disastrous combination to say the least.

"Can I help you?" A clear, friendly voice reached their conversation and they looked up to a waitress. She was young, pretty, and had short, dark and spiky hair. Her presence only seemed to lighten up their table. Harry couldn't help himself but he though she looked distantly familiar. He took a quick look at Malfoy, who also looked a bit baffled as he stared at her.

Malfoy also had seemingly gone speechless, so Harry found his voice. "Yes, I'll have a regular coffee with milk," Harry glanced Malfoy again. "Hermione will probably take a latte, and umh, Malfoy?"

"Black coffee, please" Malfoy said roughly, frowning, still staring at the waitress with an odd look on his face. The girl didn't look like she was getting scared or anything, conversely, she looked like she just smiled cheerfully at them.

"Okay, I'll bring them as soon as I can," she said kindly, but before she turned away she gave a last look at Malfo, who still kept staring. "Astoria Greengrass, Daphne's little sister," she smiled and made her way through the chairs and tables.

Harry looked at Malfoy, amused, when a very confused understanding filled Malfoy's face. "_Oh,_" was all the blond had to say.

"Daphne Greengrass?" Harry stated. "Wasn't she on our class?"

"Who was?" Hermione came back, sat next to Harry and took one look at weird looking Malfoy, and frowned.

Malfoy was in other worlds, so Harry tried to explain. "Daphne Greengrass. Her sister, ummh, Astoria, was it?" He turned to Malfoy again, who gave a very small nod. "She's here. Waitress."

"Are you sure? Isn't she like two years younger that us?" Hermione blinked, also getting confused since the facts didn't seem to fall into place.

"I don't know, I've never paid attention on her before," Harry said, pretty bored with the subject already, trying to see if his coffee would come anytime soon.

Draco shook his head and changed the subject, and soon they were talking about something else, Draco letting Potter and Granger do the talk so he wouldn't have to.

A second after, Daphne's sister was coming back with a tray. "Here you go," she said, lowering the tray on the table, and Draco noticed she had given them all a piece of Christmas chocolate too.

"Thanks," Draco muttered, noticing that he couldn't take his eyes off her. She looked remarkably like her older sister, but not exactly - Daphne looked older of course, tougher - Astoria on the other hand had something pleasantly childish in her, that had nothing to do with her age. She had noticed Draco's stare and she was now smiling to him with raised eyebrows, a bit confused, "Is there something wrong?"

Draco cleared his throat, not returning her smile. "No, I was just comparing you to Daphne."

"Smooth," she frowned, still smiling, and turned to Potter and Granger. "Is there anything else I can get for you?"

"No, I think we're good, thank you" Granger said pleasantly and took a sip from her latte.

Astoria left, and for a moment they drank in silence.

"I think I'll have to get on my way after this. I promised Ron I'll be there as soon as I can" Granger said after few moments. "But I still have to go to Gringotts first," and at that she winced, and Potter almost choked on his coffee and started coughing.

Draco wasn't following. "Gringotts? What about it?"

"Well, we don't exactly receive a.. _warm welcoming_ when we go there for business..." Harry said carefully.

"And I'm not very eager _to go there_, the goblins _hate us_, even though our purposes were perfectly good back then!"

Harry nodded. "Petty little things ..."

It took Draco a while before it started to sink in what it was they were talking about. "Wait a minute, are you talking about the incident when you broke _into_ Gringotts? In my aunt's vault, wasn't it?"

Potter and Granger changed a look - they probably hadn't remembered Draco was Bellatrix's nephew, or they just didn't want to bring that up. Draco shrugged.

"That was quite brilliant. Seriously, I didn't think you'd the _nerve_ to do that," Draco turned to Granger. "I didn't know _you_ had it in you."

"Well, I think she put it in me, after what she did to me," Granger gave a small smile.

"I still don't know how you managed it?"

"Umh, with a help of a goblin and some Polyjuice Potion. And a dragon of course," Potter said, and Granger nodded slowly, apparently trying to

remember the events.

"Pretty much," she said painfully, glancing quickly over her shoulder - she clearly wasn't proud of her short history as an outlaw. "The goblins were breathing down our necks for quite some time when the war ended. There was a lot of paperwork afterwards."

They drank what was left of their coffees and started to leave. As Draco was pulling his coat back on, he caught the Greengrass girl staring at him. She realized she had been caught, blushed, and got back to work. Draco merely gave a sigh and followed Potter and Granger outside.

Potter decided to go with Granger and face the indignation of the goblins, while Draco started to make his way back to the flat, finding himself somehow little disappointed for he had forgotten all about Potter's pocket flask.

_Well, I'm sure I can find a bottle or two from his room._

With a grin on his face, he took his time while he walked back.


	6. The insult

11:10 am, Wednesday morning.

Coffeehouse was quite empty, only some workaholics were buying their take aways, and some early shoppers were enjoying the warmth of the cafe. Astoria Greengrass was cleaning the counter with nothing better to do. It was her last days working there, so she was wondering about her paychecks until she noticed the door open. She raised her head and blinked. Blaise Zabini entered the shop. Astoria glanced quickly around to see what the other waiters and waitress' were doing; Liza and Abigail were gossiping while cleaning the tables in the far corner and Nathan was making small talk with one of the few customers. _My luck exactly, _she thought. Astoria sighed and forced herself to go to the table nearby Zabini had just settled himself.

"Can I help you?" she asked him, almost randomly.

Zabini raised his dark eyes to meet hers. "Coffee and company would do," he said casually.

Astoria studied him for a second. "I'll bring the coffee, but I'm afraid I'm too busy for chitchat right now," she said, slowly writing Zabini's order to her notebook, which was quite unnecessary for he had just ordered a simple cup of coffee.

Zabini had now raised his eyebrows with amused look on his face, eyes wondering over the almost empty coffeehouse. "I see," he said, voice almost as dark as his appearance. She left without a second look at him.

Astoria really took her time making the coffee, subconsciously waiting Liza or Abigail to come over, so she herself wouldn't have to bring away the order. Well, clearly it wasn't her day, so when she started feeling like she had dawdled long enough, she took the coffee to Zabini's table.

"Anything else I can get for you?" she asked for routine.

Zabini took the coffee to his freezing hands. "I saw Daphne yesterday," he said, not meeting Astoria's eyes.

"How nice. I see her everyday myself," she answered with a tepid tone, tapping her foot to the floor while eyeing the walls.

"We were talking, and she mentioned something that caught my attention," Zabini continued slowly but more fervently, without showing any interest in Astoria's answers.

"What an achievement."

"Draco was here."

It wasn't a question but it was obvious that Zabini wouldn't leave without Astoria's confirmation on the matter. Astoria knew there was no point to deny it. She didn't really care about the whole matter - she just didn't exactly like Blaise Zabini.

_Damn you, Daphne Greengrass._

"Yes, I belive so," she sighed after a moment.

"Sit down."

Again, it wasn't a question. Astoria sat down slowly, looking out of the window so she wouldn't have to meet Zabini's eyes. She had no idea what he was playing at.

"No, I do not know where he went, I'm not really interested in stalking our customers" she hissed before Zabini got to the actual questioning.

Astoria heard Zabini give a laugh so she raised her eyes from her hands in spite of herself. He was now wearing a crooked smile, and Astoria felt like she'd drifted into a situation with absolutely no control over it.

"I didn't exactly believe so, myself," he said with a stretching tone.

"So could you please get on with it, I don't earn my paycheck with just sitting around," she said angrily.

They had a long eye contact which Astoria didn't break. She felt anxious, pissed off, and worried at the same time, but forced herself to keep her eyes locked with his dark ones.

"Who was he with?" he asked suddenly. "And don't say 'alone', I know him better than that."

_Well isn't he getting a bit impatient or what._

"Draco Malfoy was here with Harry Potter and Hermione Granger. Can I go now?" she said crossly and started to stand up. "As I said, I don't have time for chitchat."

Zabini grabbed Astoria's wrist where her hand had been resting on the table between them, to prevent her from leaving. She let out a small gasp at the pain caused by the tight grip Zabini had on her.

"Not before you tell the truth," he said slowly with a hint of anger.

Astoria frowned and looked at Zabini's dark eyes murderously. She immediately realized he was being serious, so it was her turn to give a laugh.

"Apparently you don't know Malfoy as well as you think you do. I wouldn't go around telling people about my _great _judge of human nature if I were you," she said. "Seriously, he was with Potter and Granger. And you owe me four Sickles for the coffee."

Had Blaise Zabini looked angry few seconds ago, now he was closer to furious, which made him look rather dangerous. He threw some coins on the table.

"Was there-" Zabini started but Astoria had had enough. She ripped her wrist out of Zabini's grip.

"You know, if you have actually lost your friend, I'm sure there's a very good reason you can't find him," Astoria spat, she was tired of Zabini and pitied everyone who had to get under his damn questioning. "If Draco doesn't want to be found, stop looking for him."

"Stay out of this," Zabini hissed angrily.

Astoria collected the coins from the table. "You're the one who's getting me into this," she muttered and went back to work, and after a minute she noticed Zabini's chair to be empty.

* * *

Draco woke up happily and in a peaceful bliss. Birds singing, sun shining and all the other great stuff he didn't exactly want to concentrate on. He couldn't remember the last time he had slept so well - and long. He had slept almost the whole day before, he hadn't even left the flat. He had had quite relaxing few days since Potter was probably in the Ministery showing off his arse for everyone to kiss, leaving Draco with tha chance of privacy. He had studied the apartment during the last two days and all the stuff Potter kept in there. He knew he shouldn't have been snooping around in an apartment that wasn't his, but Potter had left to the Burrow to see Weasley and the others. And the temptation had been massive.

Well, he didn't exactly find anything interesting, and he didn't even violate Potter's room. He still had his principles.

Draco wasn't sure if Potter had gotten back the day before, he hoped not. It was great to have some time alone, although he could do with some quarrel with Potter, that being always good fun. He realized he wasn't tired at all anymore, so he decided to get a long warm shower, and so he started to get up.

Only then did he notice the sound of water running in the bathroom. Draco sighed, for knowing Potter was there. _Well, I guess that will do._ The sound of water stopped soon so Draco hopped out of bed, relieved for not having to wait too long.

In two seconds he was waiting outside the bathroom, leaning against a wall, until the door opened.

Many things happened suddenly. Too suddenly, it was morning after all.

Draco had turned to enter the bathroom and the next thing he knew he had walked right into somebody that surely wasn't Potter. And the very next thing was a high scream coming out of the redhead in front of him, Draco himself losing his balance because of the said redhead pushing him, and so he tripped down to the floor, hitting his head against the wall.

"_Fuck!_"

"Oh my God! What the-"

"_Dammit_, my head.."

"Shit! Harry! HARRY GET OUT HERE!"

Ginny Weasley was there, screaming with wet hair and with a towel wrapped around her. She was looking more confused than ever and Draco couldn't blame her - this wasn't really what he'd expected either. So she stood there screaming and yelling, holding her towel up with one hand and tugging it down with the other - all while Draco lied on the floor, rubbing the back of his head and wincing.

"_Oh shut it_, Weasley, will you?"

"Don't you have that tone with me, _ferret_!" she yelled straight to his face. "And you're not going anywhere! HARRY _WAKE UP_!"

Draco was trying to stand up but she didn't let him, and he didn't feel like forcing her - she really had a furious look on her face. And for that he sort of assumed Potter hadn't told her about their little arrangement, and the thought made him grin - which he stopped short because of the pain in his head.

"Well hello there, very nice morning to you too. Are you _aware_ of that someone is actually trying to sleep here?" Harry came to the hall all pissed off, hair up, rubbing his sleepy eyes.

Harry stood there, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. Malfoy was on the ground with very angry Ginny standing next to him. For all he knew, it looked exactly like she had just knocked Malfoy down.

"How about that anger management, Ginny?" Harry smirked.

His smirk died soon as he saw the looks the other two gave to him. "I didn't ask you to wake me up," he muttered and went to help Malfoy up. That seemingly made Ginny even angrier, for she was gaping at them.

"Don't blame it on me," Malfoy hissed. "I'd like to go to the shower now, _if you please_?" he ragged at Ginny. "I believe you have some things to talk about anyway," Malfoy closed the door after giving Harry a knowing look, and left him there with her. Ginny had her arms crossed and she looked upset, glaring angrily at Harry.

"I believe we do have something to talk about, don't we?" was all she said before she went back to Harry's room.

Harry stood there and rubbed his face. _What a way to start a morning_. He knew the conversation he was now going to have with Ginny wouldn't be an easy one. He followed her to the bedroom and silently said goodbye to the cup of coffee he had had in his mind just a moment ago.

* * *

_Awkward._

Draco was sitting in the kitchen with Weasley and Potter. The two of them had come there about ten minutes ago without saying a word to each other or to Draco. The atmosphere had immediately changed to a tense one after the two had sat down. So they were drinking coffee in silence, Weasley looking furious, glaring at Potter time to time. Potter didn't look at Draco or the girl at all, he kept staring at his hands with a bit of a frown on his face.

_"Why can't you just throw him out?"_  
_"Because I'm better than that! If I do that, I'd be as worse as he used to be, and I can't cope with it!"_  
_"It's a trick, Harry, believe me!"_  
_"I'm sure it's not!"_  
_"Harry-"_  
_"Ask him yourself, if that's what you want, but I won't throw him out without a reason!"_  
_"You took him here without a reason!"_  
_"No, I took him here because he asked me to!"_  
_"I'm asking you to throw him out!"_

The silence soon started to feel unbearable for Draco.

He cleared his throat. "So, I'm I in trouble or..?" he asked carefully.

Weasley looked at Potter even more angrily, if possible. Potter glanced up at Draco, looking just a hint amused. "No."

Draco decided to drop the subject and wondering wheter he should just go get coffee someplace else. It is rather unnecessary to say that the Weasley girl didn't really cope with that.

"You're really lucky, you know that?" she said suddenly.

Draco glanced at her, then back to the piece of paper he'd been tearing apart. "Umh, yeah, I suppose so."

"You wanna know why?" she asked, looking at him with the most serious pissed off expression.

He sighed. "I'm sure you're going to tell me anyway, so-"

"Because Harry has seemingly forgotten everything you've done to him and everyone else around you, and just lets you stay here with no demands, protecting you-"

"You think I don't know that?" Draco spitted.

"Clearly not!"

"Shut up, both of you!" Harry was seriously getting mad with them, knowing Ginny would have to get it off her chest before she exploded, which didn't make things any easier.

Silence fell between them and for a moment Harry thought they would leave the subject and he could have a peaceful day in spite of everything. For Ginny, that still didn't work out. She was looking out of the window, biting her bottom lip, and tapping her fingers to the table out of unease, which Draco found downright annoying.

"Just because he _says_ he has changed-"

"What do you want, Weasley?" Draco spitted.

"I'd like to ask you the same question," she said, eyes full with suspicion, all kinds of different conspiracies chasing one onether inside her head, begging to be outed. "Why are you here?"

Potter gave up and groaned, burying his head in to his hands. Draco felt the exact same way at the moment.

"Well that's two questions and I'm no genie," Draco muttered.

"Is this a trick?"

"_Since when_ have I been the one into tricks? I thought it was what you Weasleys did. I'm pretty straight on."

"Since always, Malfoy!" she yelled, starting to lose her nerve.

"What, are you asking if I'm still a Death Eater? You do know that I'd be in Azkaban already if I was, don't you?"

"Well you have the Mark!"

Potter looked pretty angry at this point. "Snape had it too, Ginny, it didn't _make_ him a Death Eater."

Draco looked at Potter in surprise. Even Weasley apparently realized she was about to cross some sort of a line, since she quieted down, but muttered nevertheless, "He was still mean..."

"I'm mean all the time, but that doesn't really make me a Death Eater!" Draco spat.

Ginny had had enough, and couldn't stop herself anymore. "How do we know that you're not planning to be, I don't know, Voldemort's follower, or something like that?"

Harry couldn't believe this. Neither could Draco.

"Are you seriously suspecting wheter I will be the next Dark Lord?"

"YES!"

Draco looked at her, confused and furious. Was she being serious? Draco couldn't believe this was happening. He had to use every sense of self-control to not to explode right then and there.

"Well I'm sorry to cause a disappointment, darling, but I'm too fond of my nose to be the next Voldemort or whatever" he hissed angrily, getting more and more furious than he had ever gotten with Blaise.

"Seriously, is this all just a joke for you?" Weasley yelled, pointing at Draco.

"NO, IT IS NOT." Draco yelled and stood up. "Like I wanted to get into this situation! No-one does! But you know what? People can change! I know it's a bad defence, but they really can! Just because you have probably been always this annoying, it doesn't mean I can'tregret the decisions that I've made! It doesn't mean that I was happy to turn out to be what I was!"

"You should've thought that before! You have insulted me, my family, Harry and his family, every goddamn one around you, and you ask me to understand your little life change? It doesn't work that way!"

"I didn't know better!" Draco had now hit the roof. "I really don't have to listen to this, I didn't come here for anyone's approval!" He threw his gold coffee to the sink and turned to leave. "And now if you'll excuse me!"

Malfoy left the kitchen, and seconds later they heard the door slam shut forcefully. Harry was clenching his hands in fists, still staring at the table. Ginny noticed this and started to see just how pissed off he really was.

He still spoke with his voice steady as nothing had happened. "You should go."

"I know," she muttered, head in her hands. After a moment she stood up, looking shaken.

"Can I ask you a favor?" Harry asked before she went. Ginny gave him a small nod. "Don't tell Ron."

She stared at him in disbelief. "Harry, there's no way you can hide this."

"I'm not hiding anything, I just don't want you to be the one breaking it down to Ron" he pointed out.

Ginny was about to argue, but Harry didn't give her the chance. "Ginny, don't," he almost snapped. "Just go."

"Right" she whispered. "I can't promise you anything."

Soon Harry Potter was alone in his kitchen with a cold cup of coffee and mind too full of thoughts.


	7. The chase

Draco Malfoy was sitting in the Leaky Cauldron, where smoke was floating in the air as well as the scent of strong alcohol, filling Draco's lungs. He had been there for several hours, not caring about the fact that some people were whispering behind his back - loudly. Draco had always been good at Legelimency - work of his vile aunt - but it didn't even take that to understand what the people were thinking of him. At this hour, there wasn't much of reasonable people at the pub anymore, so Draco didn't have to deal with the fearful looks everyone gave him. But even the not-so-decent people there looked at him with suspicious eyes, not minding to hide it, whispering to each other. _Nothing brings lonely people together as well as a good gossip._ Draco was sitting on the bar stool, back against the timid people. _Scum they are_. Draco didn't melt even there properly. It was still worth a shot.

He silently handed his glass to the barman for refill. At least Tom was still there. The bonding agent that kept all the scum together. _Disgusting._ Tom had worked there as long Draco could remember, and there he still was as toothless as ever. It almost felt like nothing had ever changed. Like Draco would still be the little brat with nothing better to do than bossing people around. To receive admiring and fearful looks. To be the center of his own small petty world. Things actually were pretty much the same. Only he didn't receive admiring looks anymore - it had been replaced with obnoxious.

"_God,_" he mumbled, merely to himself, and was earned with even more whispering and glancing.

Even Tom was leering at him time to time, almost waiting Draco to cause a scene including a serious bloodshed. _What's the big deal_, he thought and poured some more alcohol down to his throat. Although Draco didn't care about the people around him, he still started to get pissed off being there, center of the pub, where everyone could see him, judge him. He had had enough of that, so he bought a whole bottle from Tom to himself and got up, stumbling slowly to the darkest corner in the pub, retreating.

Couple more minutes of serious mumbling and whispering, and he could be almost left alone. Peacefully he lifted his feet on a stool, leaning back, drinking. He felt like he could just pass out right there with nobody noticing. That's what he needed. Inconspicuousness.. _Is that even a word?_

The door opened and closed many times, some people were going out, back to home perhaps, some were retreating upstairs to their rented rooms, and some were still coming in for a late night drink. Draco followed this all from his corner with a blurry vision, not gathering attention from anyone.

Of course that wouldn't do. Sooner or later - Draco had lost his interest in the time already - the door leading to Diagon Alley opened and a girl entered. More likely a woman, was all he noticed. She was glancing furtively around the pub and even though Draco had been quite sure nobody would lay eyes on him again, she did and determinedly walked over to him. _Great._ She took the seat next to him.

"You shouldn't be here, Malfoy," she said blaming.

"Neither should you, _Greengrass,_" Draco mumbled and took a good look at her. "Honestly, you really don't look like you'd belong here," he took another huge gulp from the bottle and she looked at him crossly. "But not to worry, I'm a big boy already, I can manage on my own."

"I'm sure. But I'm not worrying, drinking is purely your own problem," she muttered. "What I mean is you shouldn't be here, in the public."

"What, you think I'll just go and start slaughtering these people?"

"I didn't mean- actually, I don't really know you."

"So either stay here and find out - _quietly_, or leave me alone."

"_Fine,_" she muttered and settled more comfortable in her seat.

Draco sighed and continued drinking without any interest in the girl next to him. She was eyeing the people in the pub and after a moment she eased a bit. Again, he started feeling tired. Closing his eyes he let the alcohol take its affect in his body. He enjoyed the slide show in his head, watching all the great colors take place.

"You going to sleep here?"

Draco did not open his eyes but the colors fade away. "I don't sleep."

"Sure. Can we go?"

"Since when have _we_ done anything?"

"Since now, Malfoy, as I said - you shouldn't be here."

Draco unwillingly opened his eyes. He was getting a bit pissed off again and so he turned to Greengrass. She wasn't uptight or anything, she was now sitting in her chair spineless, stroking her spiky hair, still eyeing the room full of scum. Draco couldn't see her properly because of the lack of light, and also because he couldn't really focus his sight on anything.

"Lighten me, if you please," he purred, letting his eyes close again.

Astoria glanced at Malfoy. He had closed his eyes again, so she had to pay attention if he decided to pass out. For now, he was just leaning back and obviously expecting her to say something. Astoria still took her time looking at him. He didn't look like the old Malfoy at all. More like a ruin of the cocky man he used to be. But he did look like he had soften a bit. Astoria remembered the first time Daphne had introduced her to Draco _goddamn _Malfoy. She had been just a first-grader and all their class had looked up to him as the coolest guy in the school. The coolest - and the most arrogant. She couldn't remember the situation perfectly, only that Malfoy hadn't showed any interest in her at all - he had been happy to have a new admirer amongst the Slytherins at most. Astoria still couldn't understand why her big sister had wanted to be such a.. toady around him - including everyone else in the gang. Astoria suddenly felt nauseous. But then she looked at him again. No. No way this was the same person. He had changed.

"Zabini came to threaten me today," she said out of the blue.

She actually surprised to see a smile across Malfoy's face. "Zabini threatens no one."

"He asked about you," she stated.

He looked a bit thoughtful. "That's all he does these days, isn't it?"

"I don't care why he haunts you but I-"

"He's my best friend."

She muted for a second. "I thought Nott was your best friend."

Malfoy winced. "We all got separated - intentionally. I don't know where Nott is," he lifted the bottle back to his lips and then added, "No one does."

He started looking gloomy so Astoria decided to change the subject. "Do you want to be found?"

"Not really."

"Well then I suggest we'd leave now."

Draco gave her a look. "But I want to get fucked up!"

Draco wasn't sober but he did see the girl start laughing. At least she's wasn't hidebound.

"Trust me, you already are."

"Really? I don't feel so," he frowned.

She stood up with a smile on her face. "I bet you'll feel it tomorrow. Come on Cinderella, party's over."

"Do I have to leave my shoe here?" he muttered while he tried to find something to hold on, so he could get safely up. "'Cause I'm not really sure I want any prince after me."

She started to laugh again and tried to help him up. When he got up, by instinct, they both looked at the door when it opened. Blaise Zabini entered the Leaky Cauldron. They froze on the spot. Both of them were wondering if the dark corner was indeed dark enough. "I see Blaise wants to be my prince, don't you think?" Draco whispered to Greengrass who was biting her lip. Both of them were almost glued to the wall, while trying to come up with a plan of action. Draco suddenly remembered his idea few days ago - running away. Then it had been a lousy joke, but the alcohol made it look pretty good option in their situation. Draco started snickering and leaned against Greengrass.

"_Let's run_!" he giggled to her ear.

"You're not serious," she whispered, but gave a look at Draco who raised his eyebrows goofily. "You _are_ serious!"

They glanced at the entrance of the pub again, and of course, Blaise had noticed them. His mouth was open because of the surprise, as if he hadn't really expected to find Draco there. He was getting closer with a confused look in his face.

"Greengrass?" Draco warned her.

"Okay, _GO_!" she yelled and took a firm grip from Draco's jacket, not sure if he could run when even his standing looked very unstable.

And the next second they both were leaping towards the door that lead to the Muggle street, Astoria jumping over a stool which Draco almost tripped on. Blaise seemingly couldn't believe that was happening, but he sprinted after them. They ran hysterically to the door, trying to yank it open before Blaise could reach them, Draco giggling and stumbling as he tried to push the door open while she was pulling it. Somehow they managed to get it open and they anything but ran like hell down the street, knowing Blaise was running behind them and shouting at them - it remains a mystery what he actually shouted because of Draco's condition and because of the fact Astoria was trying to take care of him, as they both tried to get away from there as quickly as they could.

Not for once did they stop to see what was going on behind them, they had absolutely no idea how they managed to get anywhere at all, Draco almost sagging on Astoria. So they ran as far as they could, and even further away, until they couldn't hear anymore shouting behind them. Then Draco decided to leap for some small alleyway to hide.

"Here!" was all warning he gave to Astoria, and the next thing she knew, she was pulled aside to the alley and she yelped for protest.

For a moment they just stood there, holding their breaths, pinning themselves against the walls. Soon, in a silent agreement, they released the breath both of them were holding, panting helplessly. Suddenly Draco started laughing again - hysterically - and slumped down to the ground.

Astoria looked at this for awhile and then started laughing too - the whole situation was so ridiculous. None of them remembered the last time they had laughed so much and soon they started to feel pain in their ribs - because of the combination of running and laughing - but couldn't stop even then. She couldn't stand anymore so she landed on the ground across from Draco, who was snickering still and apparently almost dying for the pain - and enjoying it.

"This is... stupid" she said breathlessly.

"Ridiculous," he agreed and gave her a smirk.

"Got your shoes?"

Draco actually had to check the situation and he touched his both feet to be sure, which made Astoria giggle again. "I believe so."

"God, we _are _stupid."

"No, I'm just drunk."

"Okay," she admitted. "God, I'm stupid."

"True" Draco leaned his head back, closed his eyes, and smelled the fresh air of the night.

"Should we go?"

"I guess so."

Astoria stood up - which was an effort - and reached her hand to Draco. "Come on, lets go."

Draco took her hand unwillingly and soon they were walking down the street. Astoria started to wonder where they were going, because obviously Draco wasn't paying attention. "So where do you live?"

"Umh, sorry honey, but we've just met, and _honestly _I can't even remember your name-"

"You're such a jerk, Malfoy," she sighed. "You can't seriously think that you could manage back on your own?" she took a look at him. "You can barely even walk."

"I _did_ run," he asserted.

She didn't say anything but she did give Draco a look he couldn't avoid. Draco huffed. "At Potter's."

Astoria was surprised by this, but she decided not to bring it up. _Does everyone think that I actually stalk people?_ "I have no idea where Potter lives."

"I do, but since you seem to insist, you can walk me there," and so he placed his arm around Astoria's shoulder. After all, she did have a point - Draco started feeling like he would fall over soon and pass out. Astoria flinched by that, but she supported Draco anyhow.

They were silent all the way back, Astoria following Draco and trying to keep him up. It wasn't a long trip, both of them were in their own thoughts , Astoria looked over her shoulder every once in a while, looking for Zabini. There were no sign of him, so she relaxed a bit. She really started to feel like she needed a drink. _Draco Malfoy, always so stubborn_. Had they left earlier, there wouldn't have been a chase in the first place. She tried not to worry about it, but the fact was, Blaise Zabini was now truly pissed off. Even more because of her, but as she had said to Zabini earlier, _he _was the one getting _her_ into the situation. It wasn't her fault.

"There," Draco said after many turns and alleys left behind.

Astoria raised her head. The house was simple, looking much like all of the other ones. She still knew it contained a lot of magic, it was no Muggle apartment. They got to the door and she waited Draco to do something.

"Aren't you getting in?" she asked, almost waiting to see Draco passed out.

"Well I don't exactly got the key..."

"The key? Are you a wizard or not?" she marveled.

"Yes, but are you an idiot?" he sighed. "Potter has put all kinds of protecting spells to this house, it takes more than just a flick of your wand to open that goddamn door."

"_A key? _You can't be serious."

"_Bewitched key_, mind you," Draco mumbled. "I don't really get it either," he answered to Astoria's questioning look. "Maybe Potter is afraid of admirers or something..."

Astoria hold back a groan. "Or Death Eaters, Einstein."

"Whatever," he sighed and raised his hand to the knocker, but was stopped by Astoria.

"What do you think you're doing? It's two o'clock in the morning!"

"I'm not sleeping outside!" he insisted.

"You're going to piss him off!"

Draco thought about it for a second and she let go of his wrist. "His bloody muse pissed me off earlier," he stated and knocked on the door before Astoria got to prevent him. "So I guess we're even after this."

Astoria did groan this time as the knock echoed in the house unnaturally loud.

"You're impossible," she muttered and Draco knocked again, louder this time, because of the lack of answer. "_Stop it_, Malfoy!"

"He sleeps too well!"

Astoria almost tackled him when he tried to knock for the third time, and they ended up pretty much poking each others. When they heard movement inside, they stopped short. The door opened and Harry Potter was there, hair up, face murky with frowned brow. Astoria smiled weakly.

"Look what I found," she said with attemted cheerfulness.

"Great," Potter mumbled and stood aside. Draco stumbled inside and left Astoria there, awkwardly under Potter's stare.

Potter huffed. "Come in, come in. The more, the better," he said lamely.

"Thanks," she said with apologizing eyes.

Potter watched her for a second, trying to get his mind straight. "I guess you can't Disapparate yet?"

"Oh, I can but I'm not allowed" Astoria said awkwardly, eyeing the living room.

"My fireplace isn't attached to the Floo Network yet, so I guess you can crash on the couch," Potter said sleepily, looking as if he wanted this to get over with and go back to his own bed. He turned to Draco, who was getting closer to the staircase, with a bottle of Brandy in his hands - God only knows where he found that. "I'll talk with _you_ in the morning," he glanced at the clock. "Which should be in a few hours, _and trust me_, I will wake you up."

He pointed Astoria the place where he kept extra blankets and pillows, and went upstairs without another word. Draco had uncorked the bottle and took a happy gulp from it, staring after Potter. Astoria gave him an incredulous look.

"Nighty night, Greengrass," he winked and and went upstairs too, with unbelievably stable steps.

"_Right,_" she muttered, and extended a blanket on the couch, then snuggled in there. "Nighty night," she mumbled and fell asleep quickly.

In her opinion, the night was peaceful after that.


	8. The control

It was the darkest moment of the night, the one before sunrise. Outside, it looked like time had stopped; there were no sounds anywhere; the only movement was from the rare snowflakes drifting down from the pitch black sky. Inside the apartment it was dark and cold, the embers in the fireplace had burned out hours ago. Astoria Greengrass was in a deep sleep on the couch, her blanket had fallen to the floor and she was shivering a little. Upstairs, Harry Potter was also asleep, muttering and rolling in his bed time to time, dreaming of the ability to fly without a broomstick.

Nevertheless, across the hall in the guest room, Draco Malfoy was the only one wide awake - he laid on his bed, watching the ceiling with a cold-blooded expression on his face. Draco had passed out for awhile the second he had gotten to his bed, and then woken up again. He didn't feel like sleeping anymore. Of course he was tired, but he had no problem to cope with that. He had never had.

Laying there, Draco wondered about his life - as usual - but he didn't seem to get anywhere with it. Same questions kept coming to his head over and over again, and he couldn't answer any of them. Why he was there; if he should go back; why he should be going back; what he really, truly wanted. _Useless._ Also, he couldn't help noticing that Ginny Weasley's words kept coming back to him.

_The next Dark Lord. Him._

It would've made him angry again, but he was too tired to get angry anymore. He actually wanted to laugh to the thought, he wanted to make it go away. But, most of all, it made him sad, which made him embarrassed. His cheeks and eyes were little wet, because the tears - as well as Weaslette's words - kept coming back. He didn't actually cry, he couldn't handle crying, but the tears appeared to his eyes every once in a while, no matter how much he hated himself for that.

_And I feel just like  
__I'm living someone else's life_

When Draco reeled the same thoughts in his head for the dozenth time, he decided he had had enough. He couldn't get any sleep, but he couldn't just lay there either. He groaned and rubbed his teary and tired eyes, trying to control himself. He got up, and for a moment he just stared out the window. Snow was making the dark night brighter, but one couldn't really see stars in London. There were too much lights. Draco remembered all the nights at Hogwarts when he had sneaked out to some of his favorite hiding places, and just stared at the stars for hours. It had been a great way to clear his head. Somehow, it felt like the lack of stars was connected to the lack of answers in his head. Stars were the only thing he truly missed, they were one of the rare reasons why he loved the Malfoy Manor so much - because it's was in the countryside, because sometimes you could see the stars even in the daytime.

The Manor had been perfect.

_It's like I just stepped outside  
__When everything was going right_

Draco sighed a heavy sigh to the starless sky and then left the guest room. After he had washed his face with some cold water and almost thrown up the alcohol in his stomach, he dragged himself downstairs with nothing better to do. Just one of those nights he wanted to walk pointlessly in the dark. It seemed like it was the only thing he did these days. He stopped at the bottom of the stairs, leaning against the door frame. Standing there, Draco watched the small figure on the couch for some time. Greengrass was breathing steadily but shivering nonetheless. Half of her blanket was on the floor.

Draco sighed again and shook his head a little. He sneaked to the couch, took the blanket and carefully covered the girl with it, then set a new fire to the fireplace. He knew he was being too kind, but he couldn't really help himself.

After another moment of staring, Draco went to the kitchen, sat on a chair, and didn't leave that place until morning.

_And I'm surrounded by  
__A million people I  
__Still feel alone_

* * *

Astoria woke up in a warm feeling. Her neck was aching for she had slept in a bad position, but she still felt quite good - despite the fact that she had only slept few hours. She rubbed her eyes and saw a weak flame in the fireplace. She wondered about it for a moment, clearing her head from the bliss, but then got herself up and tossed few firewood in there. The flames swallowed the wood happily, and a warm wave floated over Astoria. She hummed tiredly and started ponder if someone else was up already. She didn't know the time and she felt odd for being in someone else's apartment. She had a cardigan on her which she wrapped tighter around her body to fight against the morning coldness.

Astoria was quite curious so she gave a peek into the kitchen if she could find a clock there. She was amazed when she saw someone already sitting there. Draco was apparently sleeping at the coffee table, hair pointing in every direction, face buried into his arms. She considered this strange and thought if she should do something.

Astoria walked over to Draco and slightly petted his shoulder. She knew there was one thing she was sure she could do right: making coffee. If Potter was going to have a harsh talk with Draco, he should be prepared. So she quietly slinked to the coffeemaker and started to go through the kitchen cabinets for ingredients. It went very well, even though it took some time because the kitchen wasn't familiar and the coffeemaker was a Muggle-made for some reason. Astoria tried to make the coffee as silently as possible, but when the coffeepot clattered loudly against the counter, she cursed.

"No need for tiptoeing, Greengrass."

Astoria almost dropped the pot this time when she heard Draco muttering. She turned around but Draco hadn't raised his head from his arms.

"Did I wake you up?" she asked with sorry tone.

Draco finally looked up at Astoria, who was still holding the coffeepot in her hands. He looked awful and he knew it himself. Astoria studied his face for a moment and noted his red eyes and the dark circles under them. She bethought if he actually needed something stronger than just coffee.

"I never fell asleep" he said roughly, switching into a better position in the chair, staring at his hands, and then started thinking. "...well actually, I did pass out for an hour or two..."

Astoria bit her lip but didn't know what to say. She felt sorry for the man sitting in front of her, but turned back to the coffee making.

Astoria ended up making twice as strong coffee than she had originally though. He did look dreadful.

Draco seemed to be in other worlds, and he startled when Astoria placed a coffee cup on the table in front of him. He was avoiding her gaze.

"Drink," she smiled.

Draco gave a small nod but kept silent. She sat across from him and for awhile she studied his expression. The man was hard to read, but nevertheless, she saw determination cross his face, but his eyes were still worried.

Astoria still felt awkward and started hearing sounds from upstairs. She sighed and gave another look at Draco, his face again unreadable. Draco was ignoring her, and she started thinking why the hell she was still there. Draco apparently didn't want her there at all, and she didn't even know Potter. She had absolutely know idea why she had even helped the Malfoy git. Astoria knew about Draco's problems but that didn't mean she was the one who could do anything about them. Stupid of her to even consider that.

"I should go," she stated, eyes fixed on the patterns on the wooden table.

No response.

"Thank Potter for me, if you will," she muttered and left the room, the flames in the fireplace not warming her anymore.

Draco didn't miss the cold expression Astoria was giving him, and he sighed to that. Potter was up and the girl was leaving. _How the hell do I get myself to these situations? Not very admirable_. Draco knew his lack of choices and ran his hand through his hair. Suddenly he jumped up and went after Astoria.

"I'll walk with you."

"Umh," she glanced at the stairs. "Okay."

Silently, they went outside, Draco pushing the door carefully shut.

"Avoiding him?"

"Fresh air," Draco muttered.

They walked down the street in silence, lots of snow falling down from the sky, causing their hair go all wet and whitening their shoulders. The winter air was indeed fresh and freezing, Astoria enjoyed it - she had always enjoyed the winter. Anyway, Draco didn't seem to give a damn of the beautiful day - he was dark, his mood was blue, and he surely did look like he wanted to be anywhere else.

Astoria's good mood dropped way below zero because of Draco, and she started feeling a bit annoyed by this. She was sick of being too nice. Draco didn't notice her leaving behind.

Seconds after that, Draco felt something hitting his back, forcefully.

"What the-"

The second hit was on the back of his head. He made a small huff and rubbed his head, noticing he had some snow melting inside his jacket and shirt. Draco gasped at the freezing feeling and turned around to face Astoria, who was standing about eight yards away.

"Cheer up, will you!" Astoria yelled and grabbed some snow from the ground, forming a snowball. Draco saw she had a way too wide smile on her face.

Draco stared at her incredulously. He wasn't sure if he should laugh or yell.

"Stop messing around," he muttered, trying to do something to the awful feeling under his shirt, the snow torturing him.

"What, you're scared?" Astoria sneered, looking very innocent despite the fact she had a huge-ish snowball in her hands.

Draco felt very suspicious and frowned his face, no words coming to his head. Astoria sighed, giving up, and walked over to him. "There" she said, throwing the perfect-shaped snowball to the ground where it shattered. "_Happy?_"

Draco studied her face. She was obviously irritated because Draco hadn't even gotten into the smallest of snow fights - she had probably just tried to cheer him up. He couldn't help but feeling a sudden warmth inside him.

Then, suddenly, Draco smirked to the girl - which confused her for a split second - and then grabbed her, and the next thing she knew, she was being dropped to the biggest snow pile nearby.

So, Astoria was covered in snow, trying to find out what had just happened. She met Draco's eyes and gave him a very confused look. Draco laughed a bit. "Fool" he smiled weakly, looking way too self-satisfied.

Astoria spitted some snow out of her mouth and then, before Draco realized anything, she in turn grabbed him from his jacket and pulled to him to the snow next to her. He gave a loud yelp and swallowed a great amount of snow.

It was Astoria's turn to laugh when he lifted his head from the snow.

"That's what you get," she muttered, smiling.

Draco shook his head so the snow could fall off and smiled still, but wasn't making an effort to get up. Instead, he slumped back into the snow, staring at the sky full of snowflakes, having a small smile on his face. He looked very pale even against the snow, which made the dark circles under his eyes look even darker. Somehow still, for a moment he looked pretty happy right there.

Astoria, too, leaned back into the snow and turned her eyes to the sky. They lied there for some time, enjoying the moment, like they had just found the most perfect spot in the world to lie on. Right then, it felt like the rest of the world could wait - the world wasn't significant anymore. Enjoying the cold breeze, breathing the freezing air, feeling the snowflakes on their skin, smile growing on both of their faces.

It wasn't until the snow started to have a freezing effect on their bodies, they unwillingly got up. In some kind of a wordless agreement they walked down the street without exchanging a word. But still, Draco looked somehow happier. 'Happy' was clearly the wrong word, but Astoria thought it was close enough. The sun started to shine somewhere from the horizon, making the cold winter day come alive.

"So you're going back to work then?" Draco asked when they were getting closer to the town center.

"Just to pick up my paycheck" Astoria answered, thinking about the money she was going to get. She still thought Nathan was going to convince her to stay there for one more day. It was going to be one difficult task to get her money.

"Filthy rich yet, are we?" Draco smiled.

"Not really," she grinned. "Just enough so I can do some Christmas shopping."

Draco sighed.

"Right, Christmas."

Astoria noticed that the further they went, the more did Draco look like he was lost in dismal thoughts of despair. More than once it seemed as if he was going to say something, but the words didn't come out.

They got to the Leaky Cauldron and went inside. Luckily it was early enough for the bar to be nearly empty, so they didn't get too much suspicious glances because of the night before. Only the bartender, Tom, looked like he wanted to protest about the incident, but Draco's appearance was enough to keep him silent. _I guess I still have some authority around here_. Draco noticed a weird look in Tom's eyes. Maybe he had thought Draco had cruelly killed the poor girl?

Draco followed Astoria to the door that led to the Diagon Alley, but stopped the girl when she was about to open it.

"Wait," he said quickly, but suddenly wasn't sure how to continue.

Astoria turned to him and saw Draco's puzzled face. She decided to give him some time to form the words. She should've been worried, she somehow knew what was coming up, but the look on his face calmed her down. Draco was probably even more nervous, whatever he was going to say.

Draco was struggling. He didn't want to say what he knew he needed to. He felt so confused, but the fact was, there were some things that needed to be done, and this was clearly one of them, no matter the consequences. Draco was sick of just sitting around.

"You..." he started, frowning to the corner of the brick wall. "You've been there, haven't you?"

Astoria glanced down. _Of course_.

"Yes," she met Draco's eyes. "I've been there."

"How is he?" Draco's voice was barely even a whisper, for he wasn't quite sure if he wanted to know the answer.

"Draco," she said, knowing she was about to disappoint him. "I just stopped by to give some medicine and other necessities from my mother, I.. I didn't see him," she felt awful, but she couldn't turn her eyes away from Draco's. She waited for some reaction from him, she waited to see the disappointment she had caused, but Draco's eyes held no emotions. And that was even worse.

"Your mother's worried."

Draco wanted to yell, cry, laugh even, but all he could do was to stare blankly the girl in front of him.

"Yeah."

_Yeah._ That was all he said before he opened the path to Diagon Alley, and lead their way through it. Astoria stood there for a moment, completely puzzled. She was worried how Draco hid his emotions from anyone - even from himself. How was Astoria supposed to change that? She decided that she wasn't, and so she followed Draco downtown.

Draco wanted to separate their ways as quickly as possible, and he was relieved when they got to the coffeehouse. He took a deep breath and turned to Astoria, but didn't exactly see just how worried she was.

Draco was supposed to say 'have a nice day', but again it felt like there were no words. And - again - he was overwhelmed because it looked like Astoria didn't mind at all. It actually made him feel more confident.

But Astoria knew herself well enough so she just had to say something.

"Draco?" she started carefully. "I don't want to be one of those - those who tell you what to do. I trust you know it yourself."

Draco was taken aback.

"So take the control, right?" Astoria said. She knew it was all that needed to be said. Draco didn't say a thing, but looked more confident. "Take care" she quietly said and smiled.

Draco was amazed by that smile - she was even smiling with her eyes. _Blue. They're blue_. He smiled, but only mentally, as if his body was numb. She turned to go inside, and a slight panic took over Draco's mind.

"Thankyou," he blurted out suddenly, which took them both by surprise.

Astoria merely waved at him, but there was worry in her eyes nevertheless.

And then Draco was alone, standing in the middle of the street. He had closed his eyes, frown on his face, trying desperately to think clearly. After a moment he shook his head and slowly started walking back the street, towards the Leaky Cauldron - he had things to do.

_My words were cold and flat  
__And you deserve more than that_

He walked down the street very darkly, some of the few people stared after him, mothers took their children's hands in their own. Draco did take his time walking, he was in no rush, but yet again he wasn't going to lose his nerve. He had just passed the Flourish and Blotts Bookstore when he stopped abruptly. Draco glanced over his shoulder at the sign of Christmas Sale hanging from the store's window.

_Right. Christmas._

And after awhile, he came outside the store with a bag in his hands.

Draco sighed deeply when he found himself back in the bar - it had already started to fill up with people. And of course there were some of the regular faces, the ones that surely had been there the night before. Draco was now sure they all thought he had either raped or murdered Greengrass - or both in whichever order. Draco was actually quite disappointed when nobody dared to pick a fight with him, so he settled for threatening appearance as he walked towards Tom.

Draco felt some foul shivers go up and down his spine when Tom gave him a toothless fake smile. Draco stared at him with an ominous sneer, and saw the smile die from the bartender's face. It made him feel pretty contented with himself - even though he knew it shouldn't. Tom raised the bottle he had held in his hand as if to ask wheter Draco was there for a drink. It did sound rather tempting, but Draco knew he should just get over with what he had come there for. He shook his head and took a deep breath.

"Zabini?"

Draco sensed all the stares laid on his back as well as the people tensing, whispering, letting the word go around. Draco decided to not to worry about that - _these people have no backbone to call the authorities here. _Even Tom looked like he wasn't sure if he should give an answer or not. For a split second it even looked like he was going to ask Draco to leave. Or maybe he was trying to come up with a good lie. It didn't take more than a raised brow from Draco to get the answer he knew to be correct.

"Room twelve, sir," Tom croaked and off Draco went. More than one pair of eyes followed as he climbed up the stairs, but nobody dared to move until he was out of sight.

Draco stopped in front of the said room, and merely gave himself a few second to think about what he was actually doing there. Since he didn't come up any reasonable arguments against his actions, he knocked on the door.

He heard the door being unlocked and then a mere "Come in."

Draco opened it and soon enough he saw Blaise sitting in a comfortable armchair, looking him from under his brows. The black coat he was wearing made him look even darker and more intimidating than usual. The look he was giving to Draco would've been enough to make anyone run away to the opposite direction. That being, anyone who didn't know Blaise Zabini.

"Ah,_ Draco_" Blaise said as if he was pleased, as if he had suspected this. _Faking._ Blaise waved his hand towards the other moldy armchair and Draco slowly walked to it, never breaking the eye contact.

"Tell me, what gives me this _pleasure_?" Blaise drawled, again faking the interest in his voice, barely hiding the venomous tone. All Draco could do was to give him a look of disapproval, since both of them were very much aware of what was really going on. Draco also knew that he was being led to a conversation that could only be described as.. er.. very unpleasant one.

"Various reasons."

Draco received a look of pure digust. "Came here to challenge me? Wanted to see if you can beat me in another running contest? If last night was just drunken luck?" Draco hated the sneer on Blaise's face, but he kept his temper. "Or did you actually come here to act your age? Tell me, Draco, because I'd really like to know."

Draco took his time to answer.

"I really wouldn't be talking about immature if I were you,_ Blaise_" Draco said lazily, studying his fingernails, but continued, "I've come to apologize."

Blaise raised his brows but didn't really look surprised.

"I wasn't capable to think clearly last night, I had been drinking," Draco said quickly, just stating the obvious, "Lame excuse, but I guess you can understand that."

Blaise thought about it. It was the way their conversations always were - measured.

"The Draco I used to know had the ability to make wise decisions even whilst drunk, or am I mistaken?"

Draco gave a small laugh. "I seriously think it's too late for the _'Draco I used to know'_ card."

Again they were drawn in silence and glaring.

"Various reasons?"

For Draco, it was the end of faking right then. He leant forward on the chair and looked intently at Blaise with most seriousness.

"You can stop breathing down my neck," said Draco strongly. "I don't want to see you lurking behind my back anymore, and I certainly won't have you questioning the people I may or may not have been dealing with."

Blaise hummed. "I didn't know you'd actually care. About other people. _Verily _not people like them."

"I don't. But I do care about how other people behave. You should be familiar with that."

Draco stood up to leave, but when he was already reaching for the door handle, Blaise interrupted.

"What do you think you've accomplished with this? You don't think I'm just letting things as they are?"

Draco gave a last look at his friend over his shoulder.

"You will," he muttered. "I'm going home."

_I've had my run  
__Baby, I'm done  
__I gotta go home_


	9. The actual confusion

A/N: No, I am not dead nor have I given up on this story. I do hope I still have some readers left out there. And sorry for the mess-up with the chapters, took me a while to notice it!

Feedback is always nice and much appreciated! Enjoy!

* * *

Harry was walking quickly through the streets of London, towards home, the prickly frost of the night forcing him to take more than one shortcuts so he could get inside and warm up as soon as possible. Harry was now watching his step more carefully than he usually did, but as the ice had caused him to slip after taking less than six steps outside the Ministry, Harry had put keeping his tailbone intact as number one on his current list of priorities. The lack of street lighting along his favorite shortcuts made Harry's rushing rather a challenge as he tried to not to fall over again. He internally cursed himself for not connecting his fireplace to the Floo Network yet, as well as starting to regret his decision to walk the whole way back instead of Apparating.

But the truth was, Harry needed to sort out his thoughts. Ever since he had moved into his small and modest apartment, he had taken the habit of walking back home. Nearly every day was still complete circus at the Ministry, it was amazing in how many directions people wanted to split Harry's attention at the same time - and even more amazing was that said people actually thought anything good would come from it. This all came down as somewhat stressful for Harry, who wasn't even working there, but who wanted to focus on his training more than anything. But, as usual, instead of complaining, Harry tried to make the best of a bad situation. Though it was lucky he had got used to working under pressure.

Nevertheless, the situation being what it was, it allowed Harry nearly no break at all, no moment to clear his mind, in what - mind you - he'd never been that good to begin with. It had turned out quite useful to walk back home with no hurry whatsoever, the walk allowing him much needed and highly appreciated time to process the happenings of the day and to leave all the stress behind.

It truly was still full chaos with the whole reconstruction and reforming, but there were a lot of effort by countless directions to build a stronger basis for the wizarding world - which of course meant focusing on the very faults of the Ministry itself - something that had never been exactly focused on before. Even after all that had been going on during the last couple of years, it seemed like people still had the biggest issues to admit and recognize the mistakes of the very authority everyone had once grown to trust. But the truth was, one could never deny the corruption that had occurred inside the Ministry and the disaster it had caused during the war.

Chaos aside, something was accomplished every single day, since Kingsley was going full ahead following the blueprint they had composed in the beginning of the project. A lot of people had started working for a better future, including various fellow students from Hogwarts, bringing on younger and more fresh point of view to the project. Kingsley was keeping busy with all the hearings of ex-Death Eaters, Snatchers and other criminals they'd managed to trace, as well as of people who were looking for reparations of damaged property and other personal matters, so Kingsley needed everyone on whom he could thoroughly rely to cover for him in some situations. Some could think that it was the Order of the Phoenix that had become the very core of the Ministry, though that was a bit too exaggerative thought. Kingsley had set various targets and destinations to work on at a time, one being the relations with the Muggle Prime Minister that needed to become stronger, a work that had previously been neglected. Of course there'd been a few raised voices protesting that the Ministry's policies were becoming way too Muggle/minority centered - which, of course, wasn't the case.

Even though Harry had all this swirling through his mind, he found himself bothered because of no other than Malfoy on his walk back. Truth to be told, Malfoy was the matter that had been worrying him all day. Harry had woken up in the morning, and found that his anger - due to the unpleasant waking up in the middle of the night because of a drunken someone - had dropped. Nevertheless, he'd thought he should wake Malfoy up anyway, just to make sure he understood that Harry wasn't going to put up with stuff like that on daily basis. He had gone knocking on Malfoy's door in the morning with false seriousness, only to find the bed empty. A quick trip downstairs and he saw the couch empty, too. At first, it had taken Harry by surprise since Malfoy had hardly done anything besides idling and sleeping during the past few days - Harry was quite sure he hadn't even left the house once. (He also had the feeling Malfoy had done a great deal of snooping around in the flat, but he didn't really mind.) But as he had gone to his training at a later hour than usual that day, he'd gotten just a bit worried for not knowing where exactly Malfoy had gone off to. Harry had wanted to talk about the whole shenanigan with Ginny the day before, but hadn't gotten the chance, for Malfoy had disappeared after storming out. Malfoy of all people wasn't easy to mentally destabilize, but Harry could tell he'd gotten upset. With every reason of course, but it had been somewhat worrying, since Malfoy hadn't gotten back by the time Harry had. So he had restlessly gone to bed, only to be woken up by the two drunken adventurers. And now Malfoy was gone yet again.

Harry hadn't heard from Ginny, either, after she's left, though he had received what was becoming an annual invitation to the Burrow for Christmas - an unofficial letter from Mrs. Weasley to make sure Harry knew he was heartily welcomed to spend Christmas with them, this time the letter accompanying homemade sweets. Harry did find this endearing, though it was rather obvious that he wanted to go there for the holidays. This time around Harry was even more appreciative of the small tradition, since it told him that Ginny had probably managed to keep her mouth shut - at least Harry doubted he would've received a letter written with such affection had they known about Malfoy. So Harry had scribbled down a quick answer that he was more than happy to accompany them for Christmas, as long as it wouldn't be too much of a trouble. Ron of course had find this hilarious, laughing and apologizing his mother's fussing about when they'd met up during their training.

Since Christmas was right around the corner, only four days to go, they'd decided that Ron and Hermione would come and pick Harry up Saturday the 23rd, because they would be around anyway. Hermione had found out that Ron had done poor job buying proper presents for his family, so she was dragging him along to do some last minute shopping on Saturday morning. Of course Christmas was just another issue to discuss about with Malfoy. Harry knew he'd be shocked if the blond wouldn't want to spend time with his family this time of the year, though it really wasn't his business to worry about. So Harry decided to make Malfoy know he could stay around in his flat for Christmas if he so wished.

As Harry finally turned around the corner that led to his apartment, he was half expecting and half hoping to see lights turned on from the windows, but was left a bit disappointed when there was absolutely no sign of life whatsoever. The next thought of his was that maybe Malfoy had already gone to bed since it was already well past midnight. He really needed to talk to the man. Harry rushed the last few steps to his front door, his fingers and face left numb from the freezing winter air. After stumbling to get the door open, he brushed off the snow on his shoulders and hair, and stepped inside.

The silence and darkness of the flat had an eerie effect on Harry who'd been surrounded by noise and people all day, the atmosphere in the hall itself brooding. One look at the coat rack told that Malfoy hadn't come back yet. With a sigh, Harry placed his own jacket on the rack and took a look at his wristwatch that he'd received from the Weasleys on his seventeenth birthday. _Almost one am._He stood there, rubbing his tired eyes and running hands through his hair almost violently. For a moment he pondered whether he should go and try to look for Malfoy, now cursing himself for not having visited the Leaky Cauldron on his way back. Some people there must've seen him. He shrugged these thoughts off, feeling like a fool for being worried about Malfoy of all people, and so he walked through his living room, towards the kitchen. He froze at the doorway.

Malfoy was sitting at the kitchen table, facing Harry, but looking at his hands in the table between them. He had his coat and scarf on, and he looked more stressed out than ever. But somehow he seemed more peaceful than he had in days. Why he hadn't turned on any lights or even lit a fire to the fireplace, but had chosen to just sit down there anyway, was beyond Harry. He didn't give any sign of recognizing Harry's presence, but it was clear he was very much aware of the fact that he was currently being stared at.

Harry shifted on his feet. He had his jumpy tendencies of course, so it was inevitable to feel freaked out by Malfoy, who'd always the most unpredictable person he'd met - ever since they were just eleven-year-olds he'd grown to beware the blond's actions. Harry noticed it was almost as cold inside the apartment as it was outside, and had the feeling that it had something to do with Malfoy's current mood, which made his wonder just how long exactly had the man been sitting there with just his own thoughts.

Harry was still a bit afraid to move. He eyed the kitchen, and was rather sure his breath would form into fog in the air if he wouldn't do something to distract Malfoy. He returned his eyes back to the blond's, and was started for making eye-contact with him. Malfoy blinked a few times, and gave almost an invisible nod before turning his gaze back to his hands. Harry eased a bit, then walked to the kitchen cabinets and started shuffling around. Malfoy began to doze off in his own mind again.

It didn't take more than a few minutes before Harry placed a steaming cup of hot chocolate on the table next to Malfoy's cold hands. Malfoy gave a look to Harry, who sat down across from him.

"No need to go all mother hen on me, Potter," he muttered.

Harry was relieved at least to receive some pissing off from Malfoy.

"Of course not," said Harry with a huff. "Want to tell me what's going on?" he asked, waving at the kitchen.

Malfoy looked at him, and for a moment Harry thought he was about to tell _everything_that had been going on lately, but then saw Malfoy clearly changing his mind. "Nothing, really. I-I just..." he shook his head, "Just felt a bit off, that's all. I'm fine." Malfoy had reached somewhat reassuring tone of voice, but it remained unclear for Harry just who he was trying to reassure.

Harry gave him a nod. "I'm sure you are."

They both relaxed a bit, Draco taking the cup of cocoa in his hands, the warmth of it making him feel more comfortable. He could feel Potter eyeing him with the most curiousness.

"Listen, I needed to talk to you about the other day," Harry started, feeling like he might as well as get started on something.

"No need to apologize in favor of your muse," said Malfoy quickly, "I know she wouldn't."

Harry frowned, knowing now that Malfoy had chosen to block him out, even though Harry wanted to know just how upset Ginny had made him.

"No," Harry muttered. "I guess she wouldn't. But just ignore her. It's not like she knew what she was talking about-"

"Potter, you really don't have to do this," Malfoy interrupted with the smallest hint of a sneer on his face. "It's not like it bothered me or anything."

_Well if that wasn't an downright lie, I don't know what is_, they both found themselves thinking.

Harry gave the blond a long look. "Right."

Silence fell between them, though it wasn't one of those awkward ones. They sat there, both glaring at each other, Harry most desperately trying to get Malfoy to trust him, Draco trying to get Potter to piss off with most seriousness. Malfoy stood up.

"I'm going to bed," he stated, Harry knowing that he wouldn't be getting any confessions out of him that day. Malfoy turned back to Harry before he went, Harry raising his eyebrows.

"I'm not going to take it as a habit to wake you up in the middle of the night." Malfoy said after a long consideration of words. "And...you didn't get into too much trouble of this...situation we're having, did you?"

Harry took a moment to let it sink in. He tried hard not to laugh at the man's choice of words, immediately realizing that the man was neither directly apologizing nor was he showing whether he was actually sorry or not.

"Well that's- that's good to know," Harry said with the smallest hint of a smirk on his face. "Tell me, even if I was in big trouble, would you actually care?" he asked Malfoy with fake seriousness.

Malfoy pretended to consider the question, then shook his head. "Not at all."

Harry nodded with the smirk still in place. "Of course. Night, Malfoy."

Malfoy turned and left the kitchen, shaking his head. "Right."

* * *

_I see myself in a mirror. Big, fancy mirror. I look around when I realize it doesn't make any sense. I broke that mirror when I was six. I remember it. Mother got so upset she didn't talk to me for days. I remember it because I was left with no one talking to me besides the house-elves. She was so angry. Out of no reason, of course, it was an ugly mirror. So I broke it. _  
_Even father didn't like that mirror. Why didn't he talk to me? I'm not a six-year-old anymore. I can see myself in that very same mirror. Why isn't it broken? I don't like the reflection in it, so I turn away and see a man on top of a staircase. How did he get here? I certainly wouldn't have let him in. Get out. Now. _  
_No. He's not going anywhere. But where do I fit in this? I'm not supposed to be here. He's watching me. There's even more people that weren't here before. They don't belong here, we all know that. If they're here, I shouldn't. _  
_I turn my back to the people on top of the staircase. They sneer, of course they do. The mirror is still there, and I realize I cannot breath like I'd want to. Not properly. In the mirror there's not only my figure, but my parents' as well. They don't look at me in the eye, why won't they? Mother, look at me. You're supposed to. This mirror is supposed to be broken. I start beating it with my fists, but it won't break down. _

_Why won't it break down? _

* * *

Harry was woken up suddenly, by a reason he couldn't immediately detect. He groaned and stretched in his bed, then opening his eyes. It clearly wasn't morning yet, and Harry started to wonder what had caused him to wake up after only what felt like a few hours of sleep. He turned on his back and listened. Then he heard it, the noise that must've been the very same he heard only seconds ago. A muffled scream, coming from a small distance. He then heard what could only be described as heartbreaking crying, and in seconds he was on his feet with his wand in his hand.

Harry rushed to the hall, finding that the sound was coming from Malfoy's room. He hesitated a split second before opening the door without knocking, pointing his with wand to the darkness. After taking in what was happening inside the room, Harry slowly put his wand down and hurriedly approached Malfoy's bed.

Instead of Malfoy being currently attacked and murdered - which had been Harry's first thought concluding from the terrible noise - Malfoy was in the room alone, tossing and turning on his bed, fighting against an invisible enemy, mumbling names and pleas. He was having a nightmare.

"Malfoy?" Harry asked stupidly, not knowing what to do, starling when Malfoy started to actually scream from the top of him lungs into his pillow. "Malfoy!"

Harry hesitated before he reached for Malfoy's violently trembling shoulder in order to shake him awake, only causing the man to put up even a bigger fight against the monster in his dreams. Of course Malfoy managed a straight punch on Harry's nose.

"_Fuck!_" Harry wailed in pain, but decided not to give up. He grabbed the man's both shoulders and shook him with less compunction, and saw Malfoy starting to wake up. "Malfoy, wake up!"

"_NO!_" Malfoy screamed, painfully grabbing Harry's arms for the lack of better option, his eyes shooting open. Harry could tell he was confused and deeply upset. When it looked like Malfoy wasn't going to let go of him, Harry sat down on the edge of the bed. He'd just opened his mouth to say something that was meant to be and explanation, but Harry realized in shock that Malfoy had started to sob, even though he was already awake, his eyes tightly shut again.

Harry swallowed air, but before he found any words of comfort, Malfoy had turned his back on the bed and was curling up into a ball, crying into the pillow. Harry's hand was left in the air, and knowing that if Malfoy'd manage words right there and then, he'd tell Harry to sod off - he placed the hand on Malfoy's shoulder nevertheless.

Malfoy made some sort of a strangling noise, but apparently couldn't give a fuck anymore, continuing to cry it out. Harry soothingly rubbed Malfoy's shoulder with one hand, tiredly rubbing his own eyes with the other, mumbling comforting words to the confused and angry man beside him.

"It's ok," Harry muttered, staring at the wall, only causing Malfoy to silently cry harder. "You're ok."

* * *

Harry wake up to find himself in a weird position on a bed that was not his own. His feet were on the floor, his upper body resting on the bed, arms tangled in odd angles. He got up and discovered Malfoy in the opposite end of the bed, curled up as a ball, looking like he was about to fall down if he shifted any closer to the edge. Harry could tell his eyes were red and his hair rugged.

Harry got up quickly and stretched, gasping because of the dull pain in his arms and legs. "_Shit_."

He had the feeling he was going to be late from training, but hesitated before leaving. He took one look at Malfoy, then took the blanket that had apparently been unused the whole night, and quickly placed it over the man. For a moment he studied the sleeping figure, wondering whether he'd be alright if Harry left. Harry decided not to 'go all mother hen' on him, so he turned and left the room to take a quick shower before heading off to the Ministry.

* * *

Draco had been sitting on the edge of the bed for a long time now, staring at the wardrobe. Once in a while he would either shake his head or groan in embarrassment. He was ashamed, of course. He couldn't remember the last night he didn't have some sort of a nightmare, which was alright, but it came down rather disgraceful for knowing that Potter had witnessed one. Especially one that had really got to him. Handful of minutes of staring and shaking his head followed again, but then he eventually got up.

Draco decided to stick to the plan of action he had, not allowing Potter or nightmares or any kind of emotional stress affect him. He went downstairs, ate breakfast, took a shower, and packed his belongings.

He'd had the habit of pretty much nicking clothes from Potter's wardrobe in a stealth manner, since he hadn't really been going anywhere for days, but not he had his own clothes back on, the usual black ones.

He organized Potter's guest room as it had been before his visit and tidied it up a bit. Draco then noticed the small bag on a chair. He took out the book he had bought the day before, and placed it on the bed. With one flick of his wand, the book wrapped neatly in silver paper. Another flick, and green and silver ribbon went to hold it together, making an elegant bow on the top of the package. Draco took a small piece of paper, scribbled down one word with his usual neat handwriting, then folded it and placed it on the package. He decided that it would do, and as he went downstairs, he dropped it off on the living room table.

Draco checked one last time he hadn't left a big mess after him before he went outside, walked to the nearest corner and Disapparated.


End file.
